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THE  LIBRARIES 


Bequest  of 
Frederic  Bancroft 

1860-1945 


^ 


LIFE  AND  LABORS 


FRANCIS  ASBURY 


BISHOP  OF  THE  METHODIST  EPISCOPAL  CHURCH 
IN  AMERICA. 


GEORGE  G.  SMITH,  D.D., 

Author  of  ''Life  a?td  Letters  of  James  O.  Andrew,"  "Life  and  Times  of 
George  F.  Pierce,"  "History  of  Methodism  in  Georgia,"  etc. 


Nashville.  Tenn.: 

PuWLI.SHfNG    lioeT&;E'M',  .^..C^yRCH,    SoUTH, 

^  ^ ',  ^'^ii'SL^i^  '&',  SkiT^,^  Agents. 

,  ,    ,  , , ,  ,  tSoe.  .   ' ..  '   ^ 


93^ 


/ 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1896, 

By  George  G.  Smith, 

In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


DeDication* 

Tjo  ^oJin  Christian  J^eenerj    *D.  *D.^ 

Son/or  ^f'sAo/J  <?/" iA<?  ^^elAodt'si^  d^/7(sco/?a/  OAiircA,  SoufA, 

V/ii's  S^oo/c  fs  *Dedicateei  .' 

not  onty  6ecause  of  tAa  A/yA  res/?oc^  ^ Aavo  /of  Ais  of/'/ce 

and  ?Tiy  to/i^y  admt'rait'on  /or  Ais  meniat ytYis 

and  mora/  excet/Gnoes, 

6ut  as  a  to/con  o/" /Ag  fondor  tovG  ^ /gg/  for  ono  tvAo  for  /ony 

yoars  .y  AavG  GaZ/od  my  friond. 

George  G.  Smith. 
(iii) 


PREFACE. 

Soon  after  the  death  of  Bishop  Asbuiy  measures  were 
put  on  foot  to  have  a  full  biography  of  him  prepared. 
Dr.  S.  K.  Jennings,  at  that  time  one  of  the  most  schol- 
arly men  of  the  Church,  was  selected  to  do  the  work. 
After  a  considerable  lapse  of  time,  he  returned  the  ma- 
terial placed  in  his  hands  and  declined  to  go  any  farther. 
In  the  meantime  the  journals  of  Bishop  Asbury  were 
published;  and  as  they  partly  served  the  purpose  of  a 
memoir,  none  was  prepared.  Then  the  history  of  Dr. 
Bangs  and  the  more  extensive  work  of  Dr.  Abel  Stevens 
gave  a  full  account  of  his  labors;  and  over  forty  years 
ago  the  Eev.  Dr.  Strickland  sent  to  press  "  The  Pioneer 
Bishop,"  which  was  a  biography  of  Bishop  Asbury.  The 
Bev.  Dr.  Janes  made  selections  from  his  journals,  and 
thus  prepared  also  a  memoir  in  Asbury's  own  words. 

It  has  seemed  to  me,  however,  that  a  new  life  was 
demanded,  and  I  have  written  it.  I  have  relied  very 
largely  on  his  journals,  but  have  by  no  means  confined 
myself  to  them.  I  have  freely  availed  myself  of  the  la- 
bors of  those  who  have  gone  before  me.  I  do  not  think 
I  have  allowed  any  available  source  of  information  to  be 
neglected.  I  do  not  think  a  biographer  is  an  historian 
in  a  general  sense,  and  think  that,  however  one  may  be 
tempted  to  turn  aside  from  the  direct  line  his  work 
marks  out,  he  should  resist  the  temptation,  and  so  I 
have  confined  myself  as  strictly  as  I  could  to  the  part 
which  Asbury  himself  acted  in  the  history  of  the 
Church.     Nor  do  I  think  a  biographer  is  an  advocate  or 


vi  PREFACE, 

an  apologist.  It  is  his  business  to  tell  what  the  subject 
of  his  writing  was,  and  what  he  did,  and  leave  others 
to  form  conclusions  for  themselves.  There  are  always 
matters  in  which  the  biographer  and  the  subject  of  his 
writing  are  not  fully  agreed,  and  things  of  whose  non- 
existence he  would  have  been  glad;  but  above  all  else, 
he  must  be  honest  and  conceal  nothing.  There  are  few 
things  in  Asbury's  life  which  ask  for  defense,  and  none 
which  ask  for  concealment.  He  was  so  closely  con- 
nected with  the  beginnings  of  things  in  the  Methodism 
in  America  that  the  story  of  his  life  is  largely  the  story 
of  early  Methodism,  and  I  have  traced  his  journeys  and 
given  an  account  of  his  personal  connection  with  men 
and  places  with  a  particularity  which  may  sometimes 
seem  monotonous. 

I  do  not  think  Asbury  has  had  the  place  he  is  entitled 
to  in  the  history  of  the  nation  or  of  the  Church.  To  no 
one  man  was  America  more  indebted  than  to  him. 

I  have  not  given  my  authority  for  statements  in 
many  cases.  Those  familiar  with  his  journal  will  see 
how  closely  I  have  followed  it  and  how  freely  I  have 
used  it.  I  have  found  it  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  to 
point  out  the  page  on  which  the  statements  were  found- 
ed in  many  cases.  Where  I  could  give  my  author,  I 
have  done  so. 

I  think  this  book  is  needed,  and  I  hope  it  will  do  good. 

George  G.  Smith. 

Macon  (Vineville),  Ga. 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  I. 

1745-1771.                                        PAGE 
Asbury's  Birth — Family  of  Joseph  Asbury — Childliood — 
Conversion— Apprenticeship— The  Local  Preacher — On  a 
Circuit— The  Missionary 1 

CHAPTER  II. 
1771-1772. 
The  Young  Missionary — Passage  from  Bristol — Incidents 
of  the  Voyage — Arrives  at  Philadelphia — Goes  to  New 
York— View  of  New  York  in  1771— Journey  to  Mary- 
land     6 

CHAPTER  III. 

1112. 
Journey  to  Maryland  —  Bohemia  Manor  —  Strawbridge — 
Frederick  County — View  of  Maryland— Asbury's  First 
Round — Gogs  to  Baltimore — View  of  Baltimore — Into 
Kent  County— Conflict  with  the  Parson— Sickness 14 

CHAPTER  IV. 
1773-1774. 
Asbury  in  Maryland  Again— Goes  to  New  York— To  Phil- 
adelphia—Mr. Rankin's  Arrival— The  First  General  Con- 
ference— Maryland  Once  More 26 

CHAPTER  V. 

Mr.  Asbury  in  New  York  and  Baltimore — New  York  Again 
—Discouragements— Mr.  Rankin  and  Mr.  Asbury— Rich- 
ard Wright  Goes  Home — Asbury's  Discipline— Religious 
Experience  — Feebleness  of  Body  — Goes  Southward— 

Marvland  Again 34 

(vii) 


viii  Contents. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

1775.                                             Page 
Asbnry's  First  Work  in  Virginia— Norfolk— Portsmouth- 
Isaac  Luke— County  Work— Brunswick  Circuit 42 

CHAPTER  VII. 

1776. 
The  War  Time— Mr.  Wesley's  Mistake— Asbury's  View— 
Asbury  Sick— Berkley  Bath— Preaching— Conference  at 
Deer  Creek  —  Discussion  on  the  Sacraments  —  Trouble 
with  Mr.  Rankin  — Asbury  left  Out  of  the  Minutes- 
Goes  to  Annapolis— Test  Oath— Retires  into  Delaware. .     47 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

1778. 
"Life  in  Delaware  —  Thomas  White— Asbury's  Studies  — 
Stormy  Times— The  Conference  at  Leesburg— Asbury's 
Called  Conference— Troubles  in  the  Conferences —"'As- 
bury's Hard  Condition— A  Truce  Made 53 

CHAPTER  IX. 

J  1781-1783. 
t  General  Assistant— Conference  in  Baltimore— Settlement 
of  Troubles— Through  the  Valley  of  Virginia— Allusion 
to  Strawbridge— Througli  Eastern  Virginia— First  Visit 
to  North  Carolina— His  Friends  Among  the  Episcopal 
Clergy— Visits  New  York,  Pennsylvania,  New  Jersey— 
Barratt's  Chapel,  1784  — Letter  from  Asbury  to  Shad- 
ford 60 

CHAPTER  X. 

178Jt. 
Dr.  Coke— Mr.  Wesley's  Will— Mr.  Asbury  Refuses  to  be 
Ordained  Till  a  Conference  is  Called— The  Conference 
Meets— Mr.  Asbury  and  Dr.  Coke  Elected  Bishops  and 
Called  Superintendents 72 

CHAPTER  XI. 

1781,. 

Mr.  Asbury's  Views  on  Episcopacy , 77 


C0A'T£\\TS.  ix 

CHAPTER  XII.  P.^jj, 

Thomas  Coke  —  The  Welsh  Gentleman  —  In  Oxford  — 
Coke's  Curacy — His  Conversion — Mr.  Wesley's  Favor— 
His  Labors — His  Death 81 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

1785. 
The  New  Bishop— Tour  Southward — Henry  Willis — Jesse 
Lee — Visits  Charleston,  S.  C. — Edgar  Wells — Journey 
Northward — Cokesbury  College — Visit  to  Mount  Vernon 
—Corner  Stone  of  College  Laid 89 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

1786. 
Asbury's  Second  Episcopal  Tour — Hanover,  A^irginia  — 
North  Carolina  —  Sinclair  Capers  —  Charleston  —  Hope 
Hull — John  Dickins  and  the  Revised  Discipline — Cen- 
tral North  Carolina  —  The  Baltimore  Conference  —  The 
Valley  of  A^irginia — Religious  Experience  at  Bath — Re- 
turn Soutliward 96 

CHAPTER  XV. 

1787. 
The  Tour  of  the  Two  Bishops — Dr.  Coke  Again — The  Blue 
Meetinghouse  in  Charleston— Prosperity  of  the  Work  in 
South  Carolina  and  Georgia — Central  South  Carolina — 
Journey  Nortliward — Virginia  Conference— Baltimore 
Conference — Dr.  Coke  in  Trouble — The  New  Discipline 
— Mr.  Wesley's  Displeasure — Effort  to  Appoint  a  Bishop 
—Failure 101 

CHAPTER  XVL 

178S. 
Charleston  Again — Riot — Georgia — Holston — Greenbrier — 
Conference  at  Uniontown,  Pa. — College  Troubles 107 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

1789. 
Mr.  Wesley's  Famous  Letter  and  the  Council — Georgia — 
Daniel  Grant— AVesley  and  Whitefield  Scliool— Mr.  Wes- 
ley's Letter — North  Carolina— The  Council 116 


X  Contents. 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

nOO.                                             Page 
Over  the  Continent — North  Carolina — Charleston — Geor- 
gia—Western North  Carolina— Over  the  Mountains- 
General  Russell's— Kentucky —Virginia— Pennsylvania 
Cokesbury 124 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

1191. 

Arjninian  Magazine — Coke's  Arrival  in  Charleston — Wil- 
liam Hammett — Georgia  Conference — Virginia — Wes- 
ley's Death— Coke's  Return  to  England — Jesse  Lee — 
New  England — Asbury's  Visit 128 

CHAt^TER  XX. 

1192. 

Returns  Southward — Cokesbury  Troubles — Virginia  Confer^ 
ence — North  Carolina  Conference — Troubles  in  Charles- 
ton—  Georgia  Conference — Beverly  Allen's  Expulsion 
— Tour  to  Kentucky — Northward  Again 136 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

1793-1794. 
Southern  Tour — Great  Exposure — William  McKendree — 
Tour  to  the  North — Southward  Again — The  College — 
R.  R,  Roberts 153 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

1195. 

Episcopal  Journeyings — Death  of  Judge  White— The  En- 
nalls  Family — Governor  Van  Cortlandt — Return  South. .  IGO 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 
1196. 
South  Carolina  —  Georgia — North  Carolina  —  Tennessee  — 
Virginia  —  Views  on  Education  —  Bridal  Party  in  the 
Mountains — Methodism  in  Brooklyn — Southward  Again 
— Francis  Acuff 166 


Contents,  xi 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

^^^•^-  PAGE 

Charleston — Sickness — Northward  Journey — Breaks  Down 
in  Kentucky  —  Reaches  Baltimore — Goes  on  His  Tour 
Northward  —  Jesse  Lee — Returns  Soutli — Gives  Up  at 
Brunswick,  Virginia,  and  Retires  for  the  Winter 170 

CHAPTER  XXV. 
^98. 
Asbury  Out  of  His  Sick  Room — Recovery — Views  on  Slav- 
ery— On  Local  Preachers— Some  of  His  Mistakes — Vir- 
ginia Conference — O'Kelly — Tour  Northward— Death  of 
Dickins 177 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

1199. 
Asbury  in  the  Last  Year  of  the  Century  —  Charleston  — 
North  Carolina  —Advice  of  Physicians  —  Feebleness  of 
Whatcoat — Jesse  Lee  and  Benjamin  Blanton  —  Henry 
Parks  —  Tait's,  Pope's,  and  Grant's  —  Extensive  Tour 
Through  Georgia — Charleston  Again 183 

CHAPTER  XXVIL 

ISOO. 
Beginning  of  the  New  Century — Asbury  Rests  a  Month — 
Washington's  Death  —  Nicholas  Snethen — General  Con- 
ference— Great  Revival — Whatcoat's  Election  as  Bishop 
— Journey  Northward 188 

CHAPTER  XXVIIL 

1801. 
*  Troubles  About  Slavery — Death  of  Jarratt — Northern  Tour 

— Revival  Days — Southern  Tour — Charleston  Again. . . . ,  198 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

1802. 
Northward  Again — A  View  of  the  Virginia  Conference — 
Baltimore — His  Mother's  Death — Meeting  with  O'Kelly 
— Over  the  Alleghanies — Exposure  in  Tennessee — Sick- 
ness—McKendree— Reaches  Camden  and  Rembert's 205 


xii  Contents. 

CHAPTER  XXX. 

1803.  Page 
The  South  CaroUna  Conference— Scotch  in  North  Carolina 
— Mr.  Meredith's  Work  in  AVilmington— Cumberland 
Street  Church  in  Norfolk— Northward  Journey — Mer- 
chandise of  Priests  in  Boston— Southward  Again  — Trip  to 
Ohio— Kentuck)' — Dr.  Hinde  and  His  Blister — Journey 
to  Charleston — Conference  at  Augusta 209 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 

1804. 
Conference   in  Augasta — Reasons   for    Never   Marrying — 
Journey  Northward — General  Conference — Slavery  Ques- 
tion Again — Confined  by  Sickness — Letter  to  Hit t— Jour- 
ney to  the  West,  an*d  Thence  to  Charleston 218 

CHAPTER  XXXII. 

1805. 
Journey  Northward — Letter  to  Hitt — Conference  in  North 
Carolina— Episcopal  Trials — Journey  to  the  North — Jour- 
ney to  the  West  and  the  South 225 

CHAPTER  XXXin. 

1806. 
Asbury  Alone — Coke   Offers   to   Come  to   America— Ofier 
Declined  —  Camp    Meetings    in    the   East  —  Whatcoat's 
Death— Western  Tour— Southern  Tour 233 

CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

1807. 
Asbury  Alone — Journoy  Northward — Western  New  York 
— Visits  Ohio,  and  Goes  Through  Kentucky  to  Georgia — 
Views  on  Education , . . .  240 

CHAPTER  XXXV. 

ISOS. 
South  Carolina  Conference— George  Dougherty — North- 
ward Journey  Through  New  Virginia — Baltimore — Gen- 
eral Conference — Death  of  Harry  Gough — Conference 
Legislation — Election  of  McKendree — Tour  of  the  Bish- 
ops— Meets  William  Capers — Capers's  Recollections 246 


Contents.  xiii 

CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

1809.                                               Page 
McKendree's  New  Departure — Northward   Tour — Confer- 
ence at  Harrisonburg — Journey  to  New  England — West- 
ern  New  York — Western   Conference  in  Cincinnati — 
Journey  to  Ciiarleston < 257 

CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

1810. 

Asbury  and  McKendree  on  Their  Second  Tour — Tfie  Vir- 
ginia Conference — Mary  Withey's  Funeral — New  York 
Conference — New   England— Jesse   Lee's   History — Lee 

.  and  Asbury — Genesee  Conference — Western  Conference 
—Senator  Taylor 266 

CHAPTER  XXXVIIL 

1811. 
Asbury  in  His  Old  Age — Sweetness  of  His  Character — Crit- 
icism on  Adam  Clarke — Visits  Canada —Returns  to  the 
States — Goes  to  Ohio  and  Southward  to  Georgia 271 

CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

1812. 
Near  the  Close — General  Conference  -Presiding  Eldership 
— Benson's  Life  of  Fletcher— Ohio— Nashville 277 

CHAPTER  XL. 

1813. 
Asbury's  Last  Effective  Year    Northward  Again — White- 
head's Life  of  Wesley — Things  in  New  England — West- 
ern Journal — Epistle  to  McKendree — Charleston  Again.  282 

CHAPTER  XLI. 

1814-1815. 
The  Sun  Going  Down — Goes  Northward — Long  Attack  of 
Sickness  in  Pennsylvania— John  Wesley  Bond — Mc- 
Kendree Crippled — Reaches  Nashville — Georgia  for  the 
Last  Time — Goes  Northward — The  West  Again — Surren- 
ders All  Control  to  McKendree 288 


xiv  Contents. 

CHAPTER  XLII. 

1816.  Page 

Asbury's  Last  Journey — The  Sun  Goes  Down — Granby, 
South  CaroUna — Journey  to  Richmond — Last  Sermon — 
Reaches  Mr.  Arnold's — Death  Scene 295 

CHAPTER  XLIII. 
i     Asbury's  Religious  Experience 301 

CHAPTER  XLIV. 
«    The  Character  of  Francis  Asbury 306 


LIFE  AND  LABORS  OF  FRANCIS  ASBURY, 

(XV) 


FRANCIS  ASBURY, 


CHAPTER  I. 

Asbury'g  Birth—Family  of  Joseph  Asbury— Childhood— Con- 
version— Apprenticeship— The  Local  Preacher— On  a  Cir- 
cui't—The  Missionary. 

TT1RANCIS  ASBURY  was  the  son  of  Joseph  As^ 
Jj  bury  and  Elizabeth  Rogers,  his  wife.  He  was 
born  on  the  20th  or  21st  day  of  August,  1T45,  about 
five  miles  from  Birmingham,  Staffordshire,  England. 
His  father  was  a  sturdy  yeoman,  a  gardener  for  the 
great  folks,  or  perhaps  a  manager  of  the  gentlemen's 
estates.  He  had  a  home  of  his  own^  was  industri- 
ous,  sober,  thrifty,  and  might  have  been  wealthy, 
Asbury  said,  if  he  had  not  been  so  liberal. 

The  family  whose  name  he  bears,  and  from  whom 
he  probably  sprang,  were  large  landholders  in  Staf 
fordshire,  and  John  Evans,  the  father  of  "George 
Eliot,'^  was  a  tenant  on  their  estate.  If  Joseph  As- 
bury  sprang  from  this  stock,  he  was  evidently  oni^ 
of  its  poorer  members ;  but  what  he  lacked  in  vested 
funds  he  made  up  in  industry  and  capacity,  and  no 
lord  in  England  was  more  independent  than  the 
good  gardener  of  Staffordshire. 

There  were  but  two  children  in  the  little  family, 
one  of  whom,  a  girl,  died  in  infancy.  Joseph  As- 
bury WAS  able  and  willing  to  give  his  only  s^on  a 
good  edurjvtinn,  and  sent  him  to  school  earlv,  iind 

(1)' 


2  FliANClS  As  BURY. 

he  was  able  to  read  at  between  six  and  seven  years 
of  age.  But  the  master  of  the  school  used  to  beat 
the  sensitive  boy  so  cruelly  that  his  distaste  for  the 
school  became  fixed,  and  he  was  permitted  to  dis- 
continue attendance  upon  it  before  he  was  twelve 
years  old.  He  was  then  employed  as  a  servant  in 
a  wealthy  and  ungodly  famil}^;  but  when  he  was 
near  fourteen  years  old,  he  chose  the  trade  of  a 
saddler,  and  was  apprenticed  to  a  kind  master,  with 
whom  he  remained  until  he  was  nearly  of  age. 

His  parents  were  Church-of -England  people  of  the 
best  type,  and  he  was  carefully  brought  up.  "He 
never,"  he  says,  "dared  an  oath  or  hazarded  a  lie, 
and  was  always  a  prayerful,  religious  child,  abhor- 
ring mischief  and  wickedness."  His  comrades  called 
him  parson;  and  when  the  brutal  schoolmaster  so 
cruelly  flogged  him,  he  found  relief  in  prayer.  The 
good  mother,  always  hospitable,  and  especially  so 
to  preachers,  invited  a  pious  man — not  a  Methodist, 
however — to  her  home.  The  young  son  was  awak- 
ened by  hearing  him  talk,  and  began  to  be  more  care- 
ful in  attention  to  his  religious  duties.  The  parish 
priest,  at  whose  church  the  family  worshiped,  was 
not  a  converted  man,  and  so  the  young  inquirer  went 
to  another  church,  opened  to  Whitefield's  preachers. 
Here  he  heard  the  leading  evangelical  preachers  of 
that  day,  and  into  his  hands  came  the  sermons  of 
Whitefield  and  Cennick,  which  he  read  with  great 
interest.  He  became  anxious  to  hear  the  Wesley- 
ans,  and  sought  them  out,  and  joined  their  society; 
and  while  praying  with  a  young  companion  in  his 
father's  barn,  he  was  consciously  converted.  He 
now  began  to  go  among  the  laborers  and  farmers. 


Francis  As  bury.  3 

and  talk  to  them  of  religion,  and  at  his  father's 
house  he  frequently  held  meetings.  He  met  a  class 
regularly.  He  seems  to  have  had  no  license  to 
preach,  but  he  was  really  a  local  preacher  before  he 
was  seventeen.  After  some  months,  he  exercised 
his  gifts  in  the  Methodist  chapel,  and  became,  while 
a  saddler's  apprentice,  a  regular  local  preacher.  He 
was  a  cheerful  and  ready  helper  of  the  traveling 
preachers,  and  worked  diligently  in  the  shires  about, 
preaching  three,  four,  and  even  five  times  a  week. 
After  thus  laboring  for  five  years  as  a  local  preach- 
er, he  entered  the  traveling  connection. 

He  says  little  of  his  work  in  England,  and  we  do 
not  know  from  hinl  what  were  the  circuits  that  he 
traveled ;  nor  does  he  mention  any  interviews  he  had 
with  Mr.  Wesley,  but  he  met  him  every  year,  doubt- 
less, and  Mr.  Wesley  learned  to  value  the  honest, 
sturdy  young  man,  so  faithful  to  the  work  put  into 
his  hands. 

Mr.  Wesley  had  heard  the  call  for  more  laborers 
for  America,  and  sent  Boardman  and  Pilmoor;  and 
now,  in  1771,  he  needed  others  to  help  them.  Young 
Asbury  volunteered  to  go, and,  with  Richard  ATright, 
he  was  chosen  for  the  distant  field.  It  was  his  in- 
tention to  remain  six  years,  and  then  return  to  En- 
gland, but  he  never  went  back.  The  ten  years  which 
had  elapsed  since  he  began  his  work  as  a  preach^^'r 
had  not  been  idle  ones.  He  had  studied  hard,  and 
improved  greatly.  It  is  evident  that  he  had  become 
a  preacher  of  no  mean  parts  and  of  no  insignificant 
attainments  before  he  began  his  work  in  the  new 
world.  It  was  a  hard  thing  for  him  to  leave  the 
good  parents  who  had  done  so  much  for  him,  and  for 


4:  Francis  As  bury. 

them  to  surrender  their  only  child,  but  thej  cheer- 
fully gave  him  up,  and  he  went  to  Bristol  by  Mr. 
Wesley's  order  to  take  his  departure  on  his  mis- 
liion  work. 

Of  Joseph  Asbury  the  son  says  little  more  than 
has  been  written  above.  He  lived  to  be  quite  an  old 
man,  passing  beyond  his  fourscore  years.  He  was 
evidently  a  good  man  of  no  remarkable  parts.  As- 
bury's  mother  was  a  woman  of  good  mind,  and  good 
culture  for  those  times;  a  woman  of  deep  piety,  and 
of  great  devotion  to  the  Church.  Asbury  was  an 
affectionate  son,  and  used  a  liberal  part  of  his  small 
income  to  add  to  the  comJort  of  the  good  people  in 
England  as  long  as  they  lived. 

His  early  life  was  spent  in  close  contact  with  the 
best  English  people,  and  in  his  boyhood  he  was  an 
inmate  of  a  gentleman's  family,  and  was  thus  trained 
in  the  best  school  of  manners,  and  acquired  the  most 
refined  tastes.  His  access  to  and  welcome  into  the 
best  families  of  America  after  he  became  an  Ameri- 
can itinerant  were  perhaps  due  in  no  small  degree 
to  his  early  training. 

While  his  early  education  was  not  advanced,  it 
was  correct  as  far  as  it  went,  and  very  great  dili- 
gence in  after  time  made  him  a  scholar  of  no  mean 
kind.  When  he  began  the  study  of  the  languages 
he  does  not  say,  but  not  in  all  probability  till  after 
he  came  to  America;  but  before  he  took  his  depart- 
ure from  England  he  had  secured  a  very  respectable 
ac(]uaintance  witb  the  best  religious  literature,  and 
especially  with  that  excellent  selection  of  books 
from  the  old  Puritans  which  Mr.  Wesley  had  re- 
published. 


Francis  As  bury.  5 

With  this  equipment  he  presented  himself  as  a 
candidate  for  what  was  really  a  foreign  mission,  and 
with  little  idea  of  the  great  work  he  was  to  do, 
bade  England  a  long  and,  as  it  proved,  a  last  fare- 
well. He  says  but  little  of  the  circumstances  at- 
tending his  appointment,  and  no  one  perhaps  of  all 
Mr.  Wesley's  preachers  expected  less  what  was  to 
be  his  future  than  he  did.  No  man  ever  went  to 
a  work  with  purer  intent  than  this  young  circuit 
preacher.  He  came,  with  -a  spirit  of  perfect  conse- 
cration, to  Bristol,  which  was  the  seaport  from 
which  the  American  ships  generally  sailed  to  the 
western  shores,  and,  in  company  with  Richard 
Wright,  took  shipping  in  the  fall  of  1771  to  come  to 
America  and  assist  Boardman  and  Pilmoor. 


CHAPTER  II. 

lui-ins. 

The  Young  Missionary — Passage  from  Bristol — Incidents  of  the 
Voyage — Arrives  at  Philadelphia — Goes  to  New  York — View 
of  New  York  in  1771 — Journey  to  Maryland. 

THE  missionary  to  Japan  or  China  in  1896  makes 
an  easier  and  a  quicker  passage  than  the  two 
young  Englishmen  made  from  Bristol  to  Philadel- 
phia in  1771. 

Richard  Wright,  the  companion  of  Asbury,  seems 
to  have  been  unsuited  to  the  work  for  w^hich  he  vol- 
unteered, and  his  career  in  America  was  not  cred- 
itable. 

Asbury  was  now  in  his  twenty-sixth  year,  and 
had  been  a  preacher  for  ten  years.  Pie  w^as  intense- 
ly in  earnest,  and  no  man  ever  went  on  a  mission 
with  greater  purity  of  intention.  His  father  and 
mother  w^ere  poor,  and  it  was  evident  that  he  had 
made  little  by  his  preaching  or  his  saddle-making, 
for  when  he  reached  Bristol,  from  w^hich  port  he  w^aa 
to  take  shipping  to  Philadelphia,  he  had  not  a  shil- 
ling in  his  pocket. 

The  Bristol  Methodists  w^ere,  next  to  those  of  Lon- 
don, the  wealthiest  Methodists  in  England,  and  they 
raised  a  purse  of  ten  pounds  to  supply  the  needs  of 
the  missionaries.  They  forgot,  however,  that  the 
voyagers  w^ould  need  beds  to  sleep  on,  and  when  the 
ship  w^as  under  w^ay  the  young  preachers  found  that 


Francis  As  bury,  7 

they  must  be  content  with  two  blankets  as  a  couch 
across  the  seas. 

The  voyage  was  more  than  eight  weeks  long,  and 
they  had  preaching  every  Sunday.  Sometimes  the 
winds  were  fresh,  but  the  young  preacher  stood 
propped  by  the  mizzenmast  and  preached  to  the 
somewhat  insensible  sailors,  and  in  the  weary  week- 
days gave  himself  to  the  reading  of  good  books. 
He  does  not  seem  to  have  had  many.  He  read  the 
^'Pilgrim's  Progress;"  Edwards's  account  of  the 
great  revival  in  New  England  which  took  place 
thirty-five  years  before,  and  of  which  the  good  man 
found  but  few  traces  when,  a  score  of  3^ears  after 
this,  he  entered  New  England  himself;  and  the  life 
of  M.  de  R^nty,  the  Catholic  ascetic,  who  had  no 
little  to  do  with  the  austerities  to  which  the  early 
preachers  unwisely  subjected  themselves.  These 
books,  with  the  Bible,  gave  him  emploj^ment  during 
the  w^eary  days  of  a  tedious  voyage.  At  last,  after 
having  been  nearly  two  months  on  the  way,  Phila- 
delphia was  reached.  There  was  a  society  here  and 
a. hundred  members,  and  a  meetinghouse;  and  Mr. 
Francis  Harris  met  the  long-looked-for  reenforce- 
ments,  and  took  them  to  his  home.  There  was  a 
meeting  that  night,  and  Mr.  Asbury  and  Mr.  Wright 
went  to  it  and  were  introduced  to  the  American 
Methodists.  Mr.  Pilmoor  was  here  as  pastor  and 
Mr.  Boardman  was  in  New  York,  and  after  a  few 
days'  stay,  during  which  Mr.  Asbury  preached,  he 
then  began  his  journey  through  the  Jerseys  to  York, 
as  he  called  New  York.  The  societies  in  those  days 
furnished  a  horse  to  the  helpers  and  on  horseback 
the  journey  was  made. 


8  F BAN  CIS  ASBUBY. 

Some  years  before  this  an  English  captain  who 
had  lost  one  eye  at  Louisburg  was  in  Bath,  England, 
and  heard  Mr.  Wesley  preach.  He  was  converted 
and  began  to  work  as  a  lay  preacher,  and  when  he 
was  made  barrack  master  in  Albany,  in  America,  an 
oflSce  which  seems  to  have  demanded  little  atten- 
tion, he  began  to  work  as  a  lay  preacher  in  New 
York,  and  went  thence  into  the  Jerseys  and  to  Phil- 
adelphia. He  became  a  leading  spirit  among  the 
Methodists  in  both  cities,  and  marked  out  a  circuit 
for  himself  between  them. 

Asbury  met  in  Philadelphia  a  Mr.  Van  Pelt,  a 
farmer  from  Staten  Island,  who  had  heard  him 
preach,  and  consented,  at  his  instance,  to  visit  the 
island  on  his  way  to  New  York.  There  were  a  few 
small  societies  in  New  Jersey  which  had  been  organ- 
ized by  Captain  Webb,  but  there  seems  to  have  been 
none  in  Staten  Island.  Mr.  Van  Pelt  and  Justice 
W" right,  however,  gave  him  their  houses  as  preach- 
ing places,  and  before  he  reached  New  York  City 
he  preached  in  the  island. 

About  five  years  before  Asbury  came,  in  the  house 
of  Philip  Embury,  an  Irish  carpenter,  the  first  Meth- 
odist sermon  in  Nev/  York  had  been  preached  by 
Embury  himself,  and  he  had  meetings  there.  Captain 
Webb  came  to  his  help,  and  when  the  house  proved 
to  be  too  small  they  went  to  a  rigging  loft,  and  then 
a  stone  church  was  projected  and  built,  and  in  it  the 
little  society  was  now  worshiping.  When  Asbury 
came  to  the  city  he  found  the  society  already  organ- 
ized and  in  working  order.  Captain  Webb,  Kobert 
Williams,  and  Mr.  Boardman  had  all  worked  here. 
New  York  was  now  quite  a  growing  town,  almost 


Fbancis  As  bum  y,  9 

as  large  as  Pliiladelpliia.  There  were  in  it  seveu- 
teen  churches.  Of  these  the  Episcopalians  had 
three;  the  High  Dutch,  or  Reformed  German,  one; 
the  Low  Dutch,  or  Dutch  Reformed,  two;  the  Lu- 
therans, two;  the  Fr-ench  Protestants,  one;  the  Pres- 
byterians, two;  the  Seceders,  one;  the  Baptists,  one; 
and  the  Methodists,  one.  The  Methodists  had  gath- 
ered a  small  society,  and  some  of  its  members  w  ere 
men  of  substance.  Among  these  w^as  William  Lup- 
ton,  who  had  married  a  rich  widows  and  was  a  well- 
to-do  merchant.  The  clergymen  of  the  Church  of 
England  in  the  city  w^ere  evidently  friendly  to  the 
new  society,  and  each  of  them  made  a  generous 
contribution  when  the  new  church  was  built.  Near 
by  the  stone  church  a  little  parsonage  had  been 
erected,  and  a  colored  woman  was  secured  as  house- 
keeper and  maid  of  all  work.  Such  supplies  as  the 
preachers  needed  were  furnished  by  Mr.  Newton, 
the  steward.  The  barber  was  employed  to  shave 
them,  the  physician  to  attend  them,  and  the  charge 
for  castor  oil  indicates  a  proper,  if  not  pleasant,  pro- 
vision for  the  cure  of  their  ailments.  Mr.  Pilmoor, 
Mr.  Williams,  and  now  Mr.  Boardman,  had  pre- 
ceded Mr.  Asbury.  Mr.  Williams  and  Mr.  Pilmoor 
had  each  been  furnished  by  liberal  stewards  with  a 
beaver  hat  which  cost  £2  5s.  apiece.* 

When  the  young  Englishman,  full  of  missionary 
ardor,  came  into  the  city  he  found  Captain  Webb 
and  Mr.  Boardman  both  there.  He  began  to  feel 
restless  in  a  little  while,  f».nd  he  expressed  his  dis- 
satisfaction to  himself  in  his  journal.  The  preachers, 
he  thought,  ought  to  circulate;  they  wei'e  too  fond 
*  Wakeley, 


10  Francis  Asbury, 

of  the  city.  And  so,  after  a  little  while,  he  struck 
out  for  himself  to  form  his  circuit  in  the  country 
around.  He  went  to  Staten  Island,  Long  Island, 
East  Chester,  and  West  Farms.  He  preached  every 
day  in  the  week  in  the  country,  and  then  returned 
to  the  city  for  his  Sunday  work. 

If  Mr.  Asbury  had  been  a  vigorous  man  in  En- 
gland, his  health  failed  soon  after  he  came  to  Amer- 
ica. It  was  a  rare  thing  for  him  to  be  perfectly 
well  after  that,  if  we  may  judge  from  his  journal; 
and,  indeed,  living  as  he  did,  he  could  scarcely  have 
hoped  for  health.  He  rose  at  four  in  the  morning, 
or  soon  after,  preached  when  he  could  at  five,  trav- 
eled fifteen  or  twenty  miles  a  day  over  wretched 
roads,  faced  all  kinds  of  severe  weather,  and  ob- 
served an  entire  fast  one  day  in  the  week  and  a  par- 
tial fast  on  another.  He  did  not  find  things  to  suit 
him  in  New  York.  He  was  not  well,  and  perhaps 
he  was  a  little  exacting.  Methodism  was  new  in 
America,  and  Mr.  Newton  and  Mr.  Lupton  and  the 
other  trustees  had  heads  of  their  own,  and  did  not 
see  things  as  he  did ;  but  as  he  was  only  to  stay  a  little 
while  now,  and  as  Mr.  Boardman  was  in  charge,  he 
said  nothing  about  it  save  in  his  journal.  After  a 
few  months  around  New  York  and  in  it,  he  turned  his 
face  toward  Philadelphia,  preaching  in  the  villages 
in  Jersey  along  the  way.  New  Jersey  was  thickly 
peopled  in  that  day,  but  it  was  not  fruitful  ground 
for  the  Methodists.  The  Presbyterians  had  a  strong 
hold  in  the  colony,  and  during  the  days  of  the  Ten- 
nents  and  Mr.  Whitefield  there  had  been  a  great  re- 
vival among  them,  and  twenty  years  before  this  the 
college  at  Princeton  had  been  established.      The 


Francis  As  bury.  11 

Quakers  were  numerous,  but  the  Oliurch  people 
among  whom  the  early  Methodists  found  their  first 
adherents  were  not  many,  yet  in  the  towns  Captain 
Webb  had  founded  a  few  societies. 

Asbury  now  came  to  Philadelphia,  where  he  took 
charge.  Philadelphia  was  at  that  time  the  most 
important  city  in  America.  It  had  been  settled  now 
a  hundred  years;  all  around  it  was  a  fertile  land, 
and  it  was  the  market  and  trading  center  of  the  new- 
ly-settled valleys  of  Maryland  and  Virginia,  as  well 
as  of  Pennsylvania.  The  Quakers  had  now  become 
wealthy,  respectable,  and  worldly.  They  had  the 
garb  of  George  Fox,  but  the  utilitarian  spirit  of 
their  townsman,  the  enterprising  printer,  Benjamin 
Franklin,  w-as  more  common  than  the  heavenly 
mind  of  the  earnest  reformer.  There  were  fervent 
souls  among  them,  but  the  mass  was  absorbed  in  the 
one  idea  of  making  gain.  There  was  a  very  friendly 
feeling  toward  the  society  on  the  part  of  the  Church 
people,  and  Captain  Webb  had  organized  a  society 
of  a  hundred  souls,  and  they  had  bought  an  old 
church  and  had  services  regularly.  There  were  a 
number  of  country  appointments  attached  to  the 
city  charge,  and  Mr.  x\sbury  preached  somewhere 
every  day.  He  was  a  born  disciplinarian.  He  de- 
manded strict  obedience  to  orders.  He  gave  it  him- 
self, and  he  expected  it  from  everyone  else.  In  his 
endeavor  to  carry  out  these  measures  in  Philadel- 
phia he  met  very  stern  opposition,  but  while  he  felt 
it  keenly,  it  did  not  cause  him  to  swerve.  He  re- 
mained his  three  months  in  Philadelphi-a,  and  then 
he  went  to  New  York  ai?ain  and  relieved  Mr.  Wright. 
This  young  man,  he  said,  had  nearly  ruined  every- 


12  Francis  As  bury, 

thing  by  having  a  general  love  feast.  It  was  ev- 
ident to  him  that  Mr.  Wright  had  been  spoiled,  and 
he  determined  to  be  on  his  guard.  He  watched  all 
men  closely,  and  (Mr.  Rankin  thought)  somewhat 
suspiciously;  but  he  watched  no  one  as  he  watched 
himself,  and  demanded  from  no  one  what  he  did  not 
ask  from  himself.  He  was  naturally  genial  and 
cheerful,  and  could  have  been  a  bright  companion, 
but  he  thought  it  was  wrong  to  be  so,  and  reproached 
himself  for  being  too  light.  He  was  troubled  on  his 
first  visit  to  New  York  by  certain  things  which  need- 
ed to  be  mended,  and  now  when  he  was  in  charge  he 
found  himself  where  it  was  his  duty  to  mend  them. 
His  journal  gives  us  an  insight  into  the  usages  of 
the  strongest  society  in  America.  There  was  pub- 
lic preaching  on  Tuesday,  Thursd-ay,  and  Friday 
nights.  On  Sunday  there  were  two  sermons,  evi- 
dently out  of  Episcopal  Church  hours.  The  society 
was  to  have  a  private  meeting  on  Sunday  night. 
The  preacher  was  to  meet  the  children  and  the  stew- 
ards once  a  week. 

There  was  evidently  a  good  understanding  be- 
tween the  society  and  the  Church,  and  the  rector 
of  one  of  the  churches  seems  to  have  had  a  sacra- 
mental service  at  the  chapel,  and  at  this  communion 
there  were  negro  communicants,  much  to  Asbury-s 
delight.  Things,  however,  did  not  go  to  suit  him. 
He  was  sure  that  he  was  right,  but  the  stewards 
did  not  see  it  so,  and  at  last  he  was  constrained  to 
take  the  chief  among  them,  Mr.  Lupton,  to  task.  He 
told  him  plainly  of  how  he  avoided  him,  of  how  he  did 
not  attend  the  leaders'  meeting,  how  he  appeared  to 
dissimulate,  opposed  the  rules,  and  consulted  peo- 


FliANCJS  ASBUliY.  13 

pie  not  in  the  society.  Mr.  Asbury  was  not  twenty- 
seven  years  old,  and  had  been  less  than  a  year  in 
America,  and  Mr.  Lupton  w^as  a  portly  merchant, 
the  wealthiest  man  in  his  charge;  and  so  the  daring 
young  man  was  taken  to  task  by  Mr.  Newton,  as  all 
w^ho  have  done  the  like  are  to  this  day.  Mr.  New- 
ton complained  of  the  manner  in  which  the  worthy 
Lupton  had  been  treated,  and  told  Mr.  Asbury  plain- 
ly that  he  preached  the  people  away,  and  that  the 
whole  work  would  be  destroyed  by  him.  This  was 
very  painful,  all  of  it;  but  just  then  he  received  a 
letter  from  Mr.  Wesley  urging  him  to  mind  all 
things,  great  and  small,  in  the  discipline;  and  so  he 
read  the  letter  to  the  society,  and  went  on  his  way 
in  spite  of  Mr.  Lupton  and  Mr.  Newton.  The  three 
months  of  his  time  in  New  York,  however,  were 
nearly  over,  and  they  soon  ended,  and  he  left  for  his 
new  work  in  Maryland.* 

*The  facts  concerning  tlie  New  York  society  are  largely 
drawn  from  that  valuable  book,  "  Wakeley's  Lost  Chapters." 


OHAPTEE  I J  I. 

1172. 

Journey  to  Maryland — Bohemia  Manor — Strawbridge — Freder- 
ick County — View  of  Maryland — Asl)ury's  First  Round — 
Goes  to  Baltimore — View  of  Baltimore — Into  Kent  County — 
Conflict  with  the  Parson— Sickness. 

TO  no  man  does  Maniand  owe  a  greater  debt 
than  to  Francis  Asbury.  He  worked  a  part 
of  every  3  ear  for  nearly  fift}^  years  in  her  borders, 
and  in  his  palmy  da^^s  gave  to  her  his  best  labor. 
He  claimed  Maryland  as  his  home,  his  dearest  friends 
were  among  her  people,  and  near  Baltimore  his  body 
rests.  He  came  to  America  in  the  fall  of  1771,  and 
in  the  fall  of  1772  he  went  to  Maryland  to  aid  Straw- 
bridge,  who  had  been  at  work  for  six  years,  and 
who  had  laid  out  the  circuit  which  Asbury  was  now 
to  travel.  Strawbridge  had  joined  him  in  Phila- 
delphia, and  he  and  Asbury  began  their  journey  to 
Maryland.  They  made  their  first  stop  at  Bohemia 
Manor.  This  was  in  Cecil  county,  Maryland,  near 
the  Delaware  line,  and  had  been  a  favorite  stopping 
place  of  Whitefield's.  The  section  was  settled  by 
old  English  and  Huguenot  families;  and  as  Mr. 
Whitefield  came  southward  he  found  warm  symj^a- 
thizers  among  these  large  planters.  The  Bayards, 
Bouchelles,  and  Herseys  lived  here;  and  Mr.  Wright, 
Mr.  Asbury's  colleague,  had  been  so  delighted  with 
the  people  that  he  had  spent  his  first  three  months 
almost  altogether  among  them.  He  was  so  much 
attached  to  them  that  it  was  feared  he  would  settle 
(14) 


Francis  As  nun  y.  15 

there.  We  find  many  allusions  to  this  excellent 
neighborhood  in  the  journals  of  the  earlier  X3reach- 
ers.  To  reach  Bohemia  they  came  through  New- 
castle and  Chester,  in  Delaware,  crossed  the  river 
at  a  place  he  calls  Susquehanna,  and  began  their 
first  round  in  western  Maryland. 

Six  years  before,  Strawbridge,  a  fervid  young 
Irishman,  found  himself  in  Frederick  county,  a  pen- 
niless immigrant.  Around  him  was  a  large  and 
comparatively  new  settlement  of  English  people. 
Some  of  them  were  Quakers ;  many  of  them,  like  him- 
self, Church-of-England  people,  but,  unlike  himself, 
they  were  merely  nominal  Christians.  They  were 
many  of  them  well-to-do  tobacco  planters,  with  quite 
a  number  of  slaves,  comfortable  in  their  circum- 
stances, easy  in  their  lives,  orthodox  in  their  faith, 
but  entirely  ignorant  of  anything  like  spiritual  re 
ligion.  The  gifted,  earnest,  pious  young  Irishman 
began  on  his  own  motion  to  hold  meetings  among 
them,  and  organized  them  into  Methodist  societies. 
His  preaching  made  a  profound  impression  on  the 
community,  and  some  of  the  best  people  in  it  joined 
the  society.  They  built  a.  little  log  church,  which 
Asbury  said  was  the  first  in  America,  and  of  which 
T,e  shall  hear  after  awhile.  When  Boardman  and 
Pilmoor  came,  they  found  Strawbridge  hard  at 
work;  and  now  that  a  regular  circuit  had  been  laid 
out,  Asbury  came  to  aid  him.  Asbury  had  been 
only  among  the  small  farmers  of  New  York  and  New 
Jersey,  but  he  now  found  himself  in  a  colony  where 
there  were  large  plantations  and  many  slaves.  The 
interior  part  of  this  country  had  been  settled  for  not 
much  more  than  fifty  years;  and  as  land  was  very 


16  Francis  Asbury, 

cheap,  and  when  first  opened  very  fertile,  and  as 
negro  labor  was  easily  secured,  the  wealth  of  the 
country  was  already  considerable. 

Although  Maryland  had  been  settled  by  the  Cath- 
olics, the  Episcopal  Church  was  now  the  established 
one;  but  all  classes  of  Christian  people  were  tol- 
erated, and  in  this  colony  alone  were  the  Koman 
Catholics  in  any  number.  They  were,  however,  con- 
fined to  the  western  shore,  and  were  not  many  in 
proportion  to  the  Protestant  population.  The  Quak- 
ers were  numerous,  and  there  were  a  few  Baptists. 
The  bulk  of  the  population  were  Church-of-England 
people  in  their  affiliations.  The  journals  of  Asbury, 
which  were  very  full,  reveal  the  religious  destitu- 
tion of  this  part  of  Maryland.  He  mentions  the 
church  in  Baltimore,  the  church  in  which  Parson 
West  preached  in  upper  Harford,  a  church  in  Fred- 
erick City,  and  a  church  at  Chestertown  in  Kent. 
These  were  all  the  established  churches  he  mentions. 
There  were  in  Baltimore  (then  a  city  of  perhaps  six 
thousand  people)  churches  of  several  denominations, 
but,  as  far  as  we  can  see,  few  of  any  name  outside 
of  it. 

The  preaching  of  Strawbrldge  had  been  in  private 
houses,  and  Asbury  found  these  various  stations 
opened  to  him.  A  view  of  the  condition  of  things 
in  Maryland  at  that  time  can  be  secured  only  by 
looking  with  some  care  into  the  mention  he  ifiakes 
of  the  various  homes  which  received  him.  He  says 
that  before  Strawbrldge  came  the  people  had  been 
swearers,  cock-fighters,  horse-racers,  and  drunkards, 
but  had  become  greatly  changed,  William  Watters 
and  Joshua  Owings,  two  sterling  young  men,  had 


Francis  Asbuut,  17 

been  led  by  Strawbridge  to  give  themselves  to  the 
traveling  ministry,  while  Nathan  Perigau  and  Hen- 
ry Watters  were  lay  preachers.  Strawbridge  had 
preached  extensively  in  Baltimore,  Harford,  Car- 
roll, and  Howard  counties,  and  had  secured  the  con- 
version of  a  number  of  most  excellent  people.  The 
w^ork  of  Strawbridge  has  not  received  its  proper  con- 
sideration. Mr.  Asbury  and  the  strong-willed  Irish- 
man did  not  always  agree,  and,  it  may  be,  he  did  not 
rate  his  work  as  highly  as  it  should  have  been  rated ; 
but  the  journals  of  Asbury  show  at  least  something 
of  what  had  already  been  accomplished  by  his  pred- 
ecessor. 

The  two  preachers  had  begun  their  round  in  Har- 
ford, and  turned  their  course  toward  the  northwest- 
ern part  of  the  state.  They  were  received  into  the 
homes  of  the  planters,  and  for  the  first  time  since 
Asbury  had  been  in  America  he  found  himself  in 
their  houses.  He  was  a  stern  young  Englishman  of 
the  straitest  Wesleyan  views,  and  when  he  visited 
Dr.  Warfield  he  was  much  shocked  by  the  extrava- 
gant headdresses  of  the  polite  ladies  he  met  there. 
He  went  to  Frederick  City  on  this  round.  Here  he 
found  a  considerable  town.  It  had  in  it  now  two 
German  churches  (the  Lutheran  and  the  Reformed), 
an  Episcopal  and  a  Roman  Catholic  church-  He 
went  over  into  the  Virginia  Colony  to  Winchester, 
where  he  preached  in  an  unfinished  house.  On  his 
return  to  Maryland  he  stopped  and  preached  at 
Joshua  Owings's,who  had  been  one  of  Strawbridge's 
first  adherents.  The  widow  Bond,  whose  husband 
was  a  Quaker,  and  whose  descendants  have  been  so 
distinguished  as  Methodists  (for  she  was  the  grand- 
2 


18  Francis  Asbuey. 

mother  of  Thomas  E.  Bond,  Sr.,  and  the  great-grand- 
mother of  Thomas  E.  Bond,  Jr.,  the  distinguished 
editor),  received  him  into  her  house,  which  was  a 
preaching  place;  and  Henry  Watters,  the  brother  of 
William  and  Nicholas  Watters,  both  of  whom  be- 
came distinguished  as  Methodist  preachers,  was  an- 
other whom  he  met  on  his  journey.  Samuel  Merry- 
man,  a  pious  Church-of-England  man,  who  lived  in 
a  beautiful  valley  some  twenty  miles  from  Balti- 
more, and  John  Emory,  the  father  offBishop  Emory 
and  the  grandfather  of  Robert  Emory,  were  already 
Methodists.  From  the  home  of  one  of  the  hos- 
pitable planters  near  Baltimore,  he  made  his  first 
entry  into  Baltimore  town  on  December  25,  1772, 
An  old  map  of  Baltimore  town,  made  some  thirty 
years  before  Asbury  came,  shows  that  where  the 
busy  city  is  now  there  were  at  that  time  only  the  pos- 
sibilities of  one;  but  in  these  thirty  years  it  had 
grown  rapidly,  and  from  Jones's  Run  on  the  east  to 
what  is  now  Hanover  street  on  the  west,  and  from 
Main  (now  Baltimore)  street  to  the  Bay,  it  was  some- 
what thickly  settled.  M.  de  Warville,  who  visited 
it  in  1789,  says  the  streets  were  unpaved  and  very 
filthy,  and  there  were  about  fourteen  thousand  peo 
pie  in  it.  The  country  through  which  he  passed  to 
reach  it  was  badly  tilled,  and  the  slaves  were  naked 
and  poorly  fed;  but  the  philosopher  was  in  no  hu- 
mor to  see  anything  good  in  a  slaveholding  colony. 

Where  Asbury  preached  on  this  visit  he  does  not 
say,  nor  do  we  know  who  entertained  him;  but  on 
his  return  we  know  he  preached  in  the  house  of  the 
widow  Tribulet,  a  member  of  the  German  Reformed 
Church,  at  the  corner  of  Tribulet  allev  and  Main 


Francis  Asbury.  19 

(now  Baltimore)  street,  and  in  the  house  of  Captain 
Paten,  a  clever  and  well-to-do  Irishman,  at  the 
Point.  From  Baltimore,  in  company  with  several 
good  women  —  the  widow  Huling,  Mrs.  Rogers,  and 
some  others  —  he  went  to  Nathaniel  Perigau's,  six 
miles  from  the  city.  Nathaniel  Perigau  was  con- 
verted under  the  preaching  of  Stravv^bridge,  and  be- 
gan at  once  to  work,  as  did  Owings  and  Watters. 
He  was  the  means  of  the  conversion  of  Philip  Gatch. 
Baltimore  county  was  a  very  large  county,  in- 
cluding what  is  now  several,  counties.  Baltimore, 
which  was  at  this  time  a  small  town,  and  Joppa,  on 
the  Gunpowder  River,  which  was  at  that  time  a  de- 
clining port,  were  the  only  towns  of  any  size  in  this 
western  part  of  Maryland.  Most  of  the  people  were 
poor,  and  lived  in  a  plain  way.  Some  families  pos- 
sessed a  large  holding  of  land  and  a  considerable 
body  of  negroes.  There  were  the  Howards,  Goughs, 
Ridgeleys,  Garrolls,  Eagers,  and  others,  who  had 
large  estates  near  the  new  city ;  but  the  mass  of  the 
people  were  like  Strawbridge — if  they  owned  thqir 
land,  they  had  little  besides.  They  lived  in  log 
houses,  and  in  a  very  simple  way.  The  country  im- 
mediately around  Baltimore  was  fertile,  and  the 
country  people  came  to  the  Point  to  hear  this  zeal- 
ous young  Englishman.  It  is  likely  that  at  this  time 
he  became  the  means  of  the  conversion  of  Sarah 
Gough,  who,  with  her  husband,  was  for  so  long  a 
time  his  most  devoted  friend.  According  to  Dr.  At- 
kinson, Mr.  Pilmoor  had  organized  a  society  in  the 
city  some  time  before  Asbury  came;  if  so,  Asbury 
makes  no  mention  of  it,  nor  does  he  speak  of  organiz- 
ing one  himself  on  this  visit.    He  had  a  large  circuit, 


20  Francis  As  bury, 

which  included  aii  western  M-aryland.  He  belonged 
to  the  race  of  circuit  riders.  He  preached  in  the 
city  on  Sunday,  and  y/ent  to  the  country,  where  he 
preached  every  day.  The  roads  were  execrable;  the 
cold  was  very  severe.  In  going  to  an  appointment, 
the  very  tears,  as  they  fell,  were  frozen;  but  still  he 
went  on. 

The  preachers  met  in  quarterly  meeting  to  divide 
out  the  work,  to  receive  their  stipends,  and  to  consult 
about  matters.  Mr.  Asbury,  Mr.  Strawbridge,  Mr. 
King,  and  Isaac  Rollins  were  at  the  Conference. 
The  Conference  met  at  James  Presbury's,  in  what 
was  then  Baltimore  county,  now  Harford  county, 
Maryland,  on  the  23d  of  December,  1772.  Although 
this  is  the  first  Quarterly  Conference  of  which  we 
have  record,  it  is  evident  that  others  had  been  held 
by  Mr.  Strawbridge,  who  had  begun  to  work  on  his 
own  responsibility,  and  at  these  he  administered 
the  sacrament.  Mr.  Boardman  had  quietly  acqui- 
esced in  that  innovation,  but  Mr.  Asbury  did  not 
think  it  the  thing  to  do.  Mr.  Wesley  had  not  done 
so,  nor  had  he  permitted  his  preachers  to  do  so.  Mr. 
Boardman  had  not,  Mr.  Asbury  had  not,  and  he 
could  not  consent  to  this  young  Irishman's  course; 
but  for  the  sake  of  peace  he  withdrew  his  objec- 
tions, and  Strawbridge  administered  the  sacrament 
to  no  one's  hurt  as  far  as  we  can  see.  On  Sunday 
Mr.  Asbury  took  the  sacrament  from  the  regularly 
ordained  parson  West.  The  funds  v/ere  divided, 
and  for  his  three  months'  work  Mr.  Strawbridge  re- 
ceived £8  and  King  and  Asbury  £6  each.  He 
preached  at  this  quarterly  meeting,  and  gives  us  in 
his  journal  a  skeleton  of  his  sermon,  which  was  suf- 


Fbancih  As  bury,  21 

ficiently  practical^  and,  like  most  of  the  sermoiiB  of 
those  days,  covered  aii  the  ground.  The  text  was, 
"Take  heed  unto  yourselves.-'  "1.  Take  heed  to 
your  spirits.  2.  Take  heed  to  your  practices.  »>. 
Take  heed  to  your  doctrines.  4.  Take  heed  to  your 
Hocks:  (1)  Those  under  conviction;  (2)  Those  that 
are  true  believers ;  (3)  Those  that  are  sorely  tempted ; 
(4)  Those  groaning  for  full  redemption;  (5)  Those 
who  have  backslidden.-'  The  appointments  v/ere 
now  made  by  a  kind  of  mutual  agreement,  and  Mr. 
Asbury  came  to  the  Baltimore  Circuit  again.  Be- 
fore this  Conference  he  opened  a  new  field. 

On  the  eastern  shore  of  the  Chesapeake  Bay, 
nearly  opposite  the  counties  of  Baltimore  and  Har- 
ford, is  and  was  the  old  county  of  Kent.  It  was  the 
first  part  of  the  state  of  Maryland  which  was  set- 
tled, and  was  at  this  time  thickly  populated.  The 
settlers  were  almost  entirely  English  people.  The 
large  German  element  in  western  Maryland  had  no 
place  here.  The  people  were  generally  well-to-do 
planters,  who  lived  in  the  easy  way  of  those  times, 
and  were  connected  v/ith  the  Establishment.  Meth- 
odism had  not  made  any  decided  impression  on  them 
up  to  this  time,  but  they  were  not,  perhaps,  entirely 
unacquainted  with  the  Methodist  preacher,  and 
8ome  of  them  v/ere  quite  friendly  to  the  Methodist 
movement.  Strawbridge  and  King  had  probably 
made  a  tour  through  Kent;  but  if  so,  they  had  or- 
5!;anized  no  societies. 

The  rector  of  the  parish,  however,  was  not  dis- 
posed to  welcome  the  intruder  on  his  domain.  Said 
Mr.  Asbury:  "Mr.  R.  came  to  me,  and  desired  to 
know^  who  T  was  and  whether  T  w^as  licensed.     I 


22  Francis  Asdvby. 

told  him  who  I  was.  He  spoke  great  swelling  words, 
and  told  me  he  had  authority  over  the  people,  as  he 
was  charged  with  the  care  of  their  souls,  and  that  1 
could  not  and  should  not  preach;  and  if  I  did,  he 
would  proceed  against  me  according  to  the  law. 
I  let  him  know  that  I  came  to  preach,  and  preach  I 
would,  and  further  asked  him  if  he  had  authority 
over  the  people  and  vvas  charged  with  the  care  of 
their  souls,  and  if  he  was  a  justice  of  the  peace,  and 
said  I  thought  he  had  nothing  to  do  with  me.  He 
charged  me  with  making  a  schism.  1  told  him  that 
I  did  not  draw  the  people  from  the  church,  and 
asked  him'  if  his  church  was  then  open.  He  told  me 
I  hindered  the  people  from  their  work.  But  I  asked 
him  if  fairs  and  horse  races  did  not  hinder  them. 
I  further  told  him  that  I  came  to  help  him.  He 
said  he  had  not  hired  an  assistant,  and  did  not  want 
my  help.  I  told  him  if  there  were  no  swearers  or 
other  sinners,  he  was  sufficient.  But  he  said,  'What 
did  you  come  for?'  I  replied,  'To  turn  sinners  to 
God.'  He  said,  'Cannot  I  do  that  as  well  as  you?' 
I  told  him  I  had  an  'authority  from  God.'  He  then 
laughed  at  me,  and  said,  'You  are  a  fine  fellow  In- 
deed.' I  told  him  I  did  not  do  this  to  invalidate  his 
authority,  and  also  gave  him  to  understand  that  I 
did  not  wish  to  dispute  with  him;  but  he  said  he  had 
business  with  me,  and  came  into  the  house  in  a  great 
rage.  I  began  to  preach,  and  urged  the  people  to 
repent  and  turn  from  their  transgressions,  that  in- 
iquity should  not  be  their  ruin.  After  preaching, 
the  parson  went  out  and  told  the  people  they  did 
wrong  in  coming  to  hear  me;  that  I  spoke  against 
learning." 


Fbancjs  As  bub  y.  23 

As  the  people  had  little  use  for  the  parsou,  aud 
little  taste  for  paying  the  tobacco  demanded  for  his 
support,  this  encounter  did  the  young  circuit  rider 
no  harm,  but  rather  added  to  his  poi^ularity.  He 
found  a  good  field  for  his  work  here,  but  he  seems 
to  have  tarried  but  a  little  while,  and  then  he  went 
northward  to  the  head  of  the  Elk  River  and  over 
into  Delaw^are.  His  work  during  this  visit  seems 
to  have  been  that  of  an  explorer.  He  does  not  ap- 
pear to  have  organized  societies,  but  preached,  as 
he  went,  to  white  and  black. 

His  stay  in  Maryland  was  nearing  its  close.  Mr. 
Pilraoor  was,  perhaps,  the  ruling  spirit  among  the 
I)reachers,  and  he  was  not  pleased  with  some  things 
his  younger  colleague  did;  and  while  Asbury  was 
on  this  visit  he  received  a  letter  from  him.  He  does 
not  tell  us  w^hat  was  in  it,  but  speaks  of  it  as  "such 
a  letter. ^^  The  fact  was  doubtless  that  the  younger 
man  had  shown  his  independence,  and  Mr.  Pilmoor 
thought  it  was  his  duty  to  curb  him.  Asbury  com- 
forted himself  with  saying  and  feeling  that  Cfod 
knew.  Poor  Francis,  as  he  called  himself,  was 
doomed  all  his  life,  -and,  as  far  as  that  is  concerned, 
for  all  the  years  since  he  passed  away,  to  be  misun- 
derstood, and  his  motives  misread;  and  perhai)s  he 
did  no  little  of  the  same  work  when  he  made  up 
his  verdict  concerning  other  people. 

The  upper  part  of  Maryland  bordering  on  Penn- 
sylvania was  in  his  circuit,  and  Mr.  Strawbridge, 
Abraham  Whitworth,  and  Mr.  King  met  him  at  the 
quarterly  meeting  at  Susquehanna.  The  sacrament 
does  not  seem  to  have  been  administered  at  this 
time,  but  strict  inquiry  was  made  into  the  state  of 


24:  Francis  Asbuby, 

the  societies.  It  was  thought  there  were  no  disor- 
derly members  in  the  societies.  The  people  paid 
their  debts,  but  the  questions  as  to  whether  there 
was  no  dram-drinking,  whether  band  meetings  were 
kept  up,  and  as  to  v>'hether  the  preachers  were  blame- 
less, are  not  answered. 

Mr.  Asburj,  after  this  Conference,  went  to  Balti- 
more, but  only  to  get  ready  for  his  journey  to  New 
York.  He  had  spent  his  first  six  months  in  Mary- 
land, and  had  gone  over  nearly  all  the  western  part 
of  the  state,  but  did  his  main  work  in  what  are  now 
Baltimore  and  Harford  counties,  in  the  meantime 
paying  a  visit  to  Kent  and  Delaware. 

The  families  he  met  with  give  us  a  glimpse  of 
what  kind  of  people  the  first  Maryland  Methodists 
were.  Henry  Watters,  the  brother  of  William  and 
Nicholas  Watters,  was  one  of  his  first  hearers.  He 
was  already  in  the  society.  Charles  Ridgeley,  Dr. 
Warfield,  Mr.  Giles,  Joseph  Dallam,  and  Joshua 
Owings,  Mrs.  Huling,  Mrs.  Rogers,  Nathan  Peri- 
gau,  James  Presbury,  who  was  a  relative  of  Free- 
born Garrettson,  Mr.  Merryman,  and  Mr.  Emory, 
were  all  of  them  among  his  hearers,  and  at  many  of 
their  houses  he  had  a  preaching  place.  The  Quak- 
ers w^ere  particularly  kind  to  the  early  Methodists, 
and  he  mentions  them  very  often.  Over  in  Kent 
Samuel  Hinson,  one  of  the  old  settlers,  and  a  mem- 
ber of  a  distinguished  family,  entertained  him,  .and 
became  a  constant  friend.  There  was  in  Kent  a 
Hinson's  chapel  named,  doubtless,  for  him.  He 
preached  very  earnestly  on  his  favorite  theme,  "Per- 
fect Love;"  and  while  he  did  not  profess  it  himself, 
he  was  earnest  in  seeking  it  and  urffins:  all  to  seek  it. 


F HAN  CIS  As  BURY,  25 

Those  who  are  familiar  with  Maryland  and  the 
families  of  Maryland  can  see  what  impression  had 
even  now  been  made.  Mr.  Asbury  seems  to  have 
made  a  greater  impression  upon  Baltimore  and  the 
Point  than  any  who  had  preceded  him.  There  were 
now  at  work  in  that  part  of  Maryland  quite  a  num- 
ber of  workers,  and  at  the  Conference  which  met  in 
June,  1773,  there  v/ere  four  preachers  sent  to  Balti- 
more, and  five  hundred  members  of  the  society  were 
reported.  In  NeT\^  York  and  Philadelphia  there 
were  one  hundred  and  eighty  each;  in  Virginia,  one 
hundred ;  in  New  Jersey,  two  hundred ;  but  in  Mary- 
land, five  hundred.  They  were  chiefly  found  in  Har- 
ford, Baltimore,  and  Frederick  counties. 

After  this  Conference  he  returned  to  Baltimore, 
but  only  to  get  ready  for  his  journey  to  New  York, 
to  which  place  he  went  early  in  1773. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

1773-1774. 

Asbury  in  Maryland  Again — Goes  to  New  York — To  Philadel- 
jjliia— Mr.  Rankin's  Arrival — The  First  General  Conference — 
Maryland  Once  More. 

ME.  WESLEY  had  appointed  Asbury  assist- 
ant in  charge  of  the  work,  but  he  took  be- 
sides a  regular  circuit,  and  was  in  New  Y^'ork  in  May. 
He  only  remained  one  week,  however,  and  then  went 
to  Philadelphia,  visiting  Staten  Island  b^-  the  way. 
He  kept  his  journal  vvdth  care,  but  says  little  of  the 
incidents  of  his  outer  life,  and  merely  makes  record 
of  his  religious  experience  and  of  the  sermons  he 
preached.  He  was  not  thirty  years  old,  but  his  pi- 
ety was  of  the  solidest  sort,  verging  toward  asceti- 
cism. Judging  from  his  journal  there  seems  never 
to  have  been  a  single  intermission  in  his  religious 
fervor,  but  he  had  seasons  of  great  depression. 

Reenforcements  had  been  called  for  from  En- 
gland and  sent,  and  on  June  1st  Mr.  Thomas  Ran- 
kin, Mr.  George  Shadford,  and  Mr.  Y'earby  reached 
Philadelphia  direct  from  England,  and  from  Mr. 
Wesley. 

Mr.  Rankin  superseded  Mr.  Asbury  as  general  as- 
sistant, and  immediately  took  charge  of  the  socie- 
ties. He  preached  his  first  sermon  in  America  in 
Philadelphia,  and  Mr.  Asbury  thought  he  would  not 
be  ndmired  as  a  preacher,  but  he  had  good  hope  that 
.?is  a  disciplinarian  he  would  do  v>^ell. 

While  he  was  in  Philadelphia,  like  a  good  church- 
(26) 


Francis  As  bub  y.  27 

man  as  he  was,  he  went  to  church  to  receive  the  sac- 
rament; and  then  the  next  week  Mr.  Rankin  and 
himself  went  to  New  York,  where  Mr.  Richard 
Wright  was.  Mr.  Wright  does  not  seem  to  have 
done  anything  grievously  wrong,  but  he  did  not 
please  his  more  serious  brothers;  and  the  sight  of 
him  and  other  concurring  circumstances  "affected 
Mr.  Rankin  so  that  he  seemed  to  be  cast  down  in 
his  mind,"  but  after  Mr.  Asbury's  sermon  his  spirits 
revived,  and  in  the  afternoon  Mr.  Rankin,  Captain 
Webb,  Mr.  Wright,  and  Mr.  Asbury  all  went  to  St. 
Paul's  and  received  the  sacrament. 

Mr.  Asbury  left  his  new  superintendent  in  the  city 
and  visited  his  old  friend  Justice  Wright  on  Staten' 
Island.  He  here  found  at  his  house  one  who  really 
believed  that  we  were  regenerate  before  we  repent- 
ed. He  gave  the  obstinate  Presbyterian  Mr.  Fletch- 
er's second  Check,  then  just  from  the  press,  fully 
persuaded,  we  doubt  not,  that  if  that  failed  to  cure 
his  heresy,  his  case  was  hopeless.  Mr.  Asbury  soon 
returned  to  New  York  and  went  to  work. 

Mr.  Lupton  was  still  a  little  hard  to  please,  and 
charged  the  stern  Asbury  with  winking  at  the  fol- 
lies of  the  people,  and  said  some  other  hard  things 
sufficiently  painful  to  the  sensitive  young  preacher; 
but  as  he  was  no  longer  general  assistant,  and  was 
not  likely  to  stay  long  in  New  York,  he  bore  the  in- 
dignity that  the  portly  steward  put  upon  him,  and 
went  calmly  on  his  way. 

There  had  not  been  up  to  this  time  a  Conference  of 
all  the  preachers.  Some  of  them  had  met  together  m 
their  quarterly  meetings,  but  it  was  now  decided  to 
call  a  General  Conference.     The  name  given  to  the 


28  Francis  As  bury. 

little  assembly  of  Methodist  preachers  which  met  iu 
Philadelphia  in  June,  1773,  is  the  only  feature  of  re- 
semblance to  the  body  of  delegates  who  now  meet  un- 
der that  name  every  four  years.  The  minutes  of  this 
Conference  have  been  preserved.  They  cover  about 
half  a  page  of  octavo  paper.  There  were  ten  preach- 
ers present  and  one  thousand  one  hunderd  and  sixty 
members  reported  as  in  the  society,  of  which  Mary- 
land had  live  hundred,  and  Virginia  one  hundred. 
Thomas  Rankin  presided,  and  fixed  the  appoint- 
ments. Mr.  Asbury,  Mr.  Whitworth,  and  Mr.  Year- 
by  were  sent  to  Maryland,  to  take  up  the  work  so 
w^eli  begun. 

Mr.  Asbury  went  to  his  circuit  and  came  again  to 
Baltimore;  and  Mrs.  Tribulet's  new  house,  on  Main 
street  and  Tribulet's  alley,  was  freely  lent  for  a 
preaching  place.  When  it  w^as  known  that  there 
was  to  be  preaching,  he  had  a  good  congregation. 
He  made  another  visit  to  Kent,  and  to  his  friend 
Mr.  Hinson's.  He  had  sent  poor,  rough,  and,  alas! 
unreliable  Isaac  Rollins  to  work  in  Kent,  but  the 
people  would  not  bear  with  his  rough  address  and 
perhaps  slack  morals. 

We  may  now  get  an  outline  of  Asbury's  circuit. 
With  Baltimore  for  a  center,  he  went  to  Patapsco 
Neck;  then  to  Charles  Harriman's;  then  to  James 
Presbury's,  up  the  Bay;  then  over  to  Kent,  on  the 
eastern  shore;  then,  recrossing  the  Bay,  he  went  to 
Watters's  and  Dallam's,  and  to  Pipe  Creek.  His 
circuit  took  him  into  the  midst  of  the  most  malari- 
ous section  of  Maryland  and  at  the  sickly  season, 
and  he  had  a  severe  bilious  attack  which  terminated 
in  a  quartan  ague.     In  studying  his  journal,  which 


Francis  As  bury.  29 

is  an  exceedingly  dry  detail  of  events,  we  are  able 
to  make  out  only  the  bare  outlines  of  the  work. 
There  are  evidences  in  it  of  a  deep  religious  interest 
among  some  of  the  people.  The  doctrine  of  a  sound, 
conscious  conversion  and  the  duty  of  a  rigid  adher- 
ence to  the  General  Rules,  and  seeking  with  all  ear- 
nestness for  perfect  love,  were  the  burden  of  every 
sermon.  Ke  made  no  compromises ;  he  was  intense- 
ly in  earnest,  and  so  impressed  himself  en  all  who 
heard  him.  A  protracted  meeting  Vv^as  then  an  un- 
known thing.     The  preacher  preached  and  went  on 

his  way. 

He  was  now  introduced  by  his  good  sister  Hu- 
ling  into  a  family  which  did  much  for  the  struggling 
society.  This  was  the  family  of  Philip  Rogers.  As- 
bury's  prayer  was  that  the  wicked  man  might  be- 
come a  disciple  of  Jesus,  which  prayer  was  gracious- 
ly answered.  The  first  revival  in  Baltimore  began 
now  to  cheer  him.  He  remained  in  Baltimore  for 
a  month,  but  no  service  like  to  the  modern  pro- 
tracted meeting  was  held.  •  He  preached  on  Sunday 
three  times,  and  on  Wednesday  night,  and  expected 
results  at  the  regular  service.  During  all  this  time 
he  was  really  an  invalid ;  a  most  obstinate  attack  of 
ague  kept  him  in  torture  a  large  part  of  the  time, 
but  no  sooner  was  the  fever  gone  than  he  was  at 
work  again. 

He  was  not  a  man  to  be  trifled  with.  He  knew 
his  rights,  and  asserted  them.  He  had  taken  out  a 
regular  license  from  the  authorities  under  the  tol- 
eration act,  and  demanded  protection;  and  when 
certain  drunken  fellows  of  the  baser  sort  raised  a 
riot  at  the  widow  Tribulet's,  which  was  promptly 


30  Francis  As  bury, 

suppressed  by  Philip  Rogers,  who  had  been  their 
companion  in  sin,  Mr.  Asbury  advised  her  to  have 
them  i)rosecuted,  and  it  was  no  fault  of  his  that  the}- 
did  not  receive  the  punishment  which  they  justly 
deserved. 

The  house  of  the  good  widow  was  not  large 
enough  to  hold  the  people,  and  Mr.  Moore  invited 
them  to  his  house.  A  church  building  was  a  neces- 
sity, but  Asbury  felt  that  it  was  too  great  a  burden 
for  him  to  undertake  to  build  it.  He  went  out  on 
his  country  tour,  and  when  he  returned  he  found 
that  William  Moore  had  raised  £100  and  Philip  Rog- 
ers had  taken  up  two  lots.  These  lots  were  on  Love- 
ly Lane.  The  November  before  this  Jesse  Hollings- 
worth,  George  Wells,  Richard  Moale,  George  Rob- 
inson, and  John  Woodward  purchased  a  lot  on 
Strawberry  Alley  on  w^hich  to  erect  a  church,  and 
^^on  the  30th  of  the  month,"  Mr.  Asbury  said,  "we 
agreed  with  Mr.  L.  to  begin  the  brick  work  of  the 
church,"  which,  according  to  Stevens,  was  com- 
menced in  November,  1774.  On  April  18,  1774,  the 
foundation  of  the  house  in  Baltimore  was  laid,  and 
by  the  middle  of  October  it  was  so  far  completed  that 
they  were  able  to  preach  in  it.  Stevens  says  the 
Strawberry  Alley  church  was  of  brick,  forty-one  feet 
in  length  and  thirty  in  width;  that  its  openingwas  on 
Fleet  street;  that  its  pulpit  was  very  high,  and  over 
it  hung  the  sounding  board.  It  was  given  to  the  ne- 
groes as  early  as  1801. 

There  seems  to  have  been  a  constant  revival  in 
Baltimore,  and  Methodism  made  another  inroad  on 
the  ranks  of  the  godless  and  wealthy  planters  about 
the  city.     Mr.  Gough  and  Mr,  Charles  Ridgeley  and 


Francis  As  bury,  31 

Mr.  Carroll  attended  the  preaching  of  Mr.  Asbury; 
and  Captain  Ridgeley  was  awakened,  and  Mr.  Gough 
after  this  was  converted  and  joined  the  society. 
Asbury  had  now  two  very  plain  brick  chapels  in 
which  to  preach,  one  at  the  Point  and  one  in  the 
city.  Unornamented,  uncomfortable  houses  they 
were,  but  they  were  for  his  use.  They  were  simjjly 
brick,  barn-like  buildings,  with  rows  of  backless 
benches,  a  high  pulpit,  and  a  sounding  board.  The 
Methodists  who  attended  the  services  here  were 
drilled  according  to  the  English  model,  for  Asbury 
was  almost  a  Methodist  ritualist.  The  lively  song, 
the  fervent  prayer,  the  noisy  sermon,  then  the  ear- 
nest song  came  in  regular  order.  The  last  two 
lines  of  the  hymn  sung,  the  congregation  wheeled 
right  about  face,  and,  after  repeating  them,  they  all 
bowed  on  their  knees  for  prayer.  All  were  dressed 
alike  in  sober  stuff,  cut  in  the  Methodist  pattern, 
and  all  alike  eschewed  ruffles,  rings,  and  feathers. 
There  was  no  stove  in  the  chapel,  but  they  made  up 
for  the  want  of  artificial  heat  by  their  zeal.  These 
noisy  meetings  and  lively  sermons  drew  quite  a  con 
gregation  to  the  chapel,  and  in  the  Strawberry  Alley 
and  Lovely  Lane  chapels  there  was  a  decided  inter- 
est all  the  time,  and  probably  Mr.  Asbury  was  the 
most  interesting  preacher  in  Baltimore.  He  could, 
however,  stay  only  three  months,  and  then  tie  went 
to  Norfolk,  and  it  was  quite  a  twelvemonth  before 
he  was  in  Maryland  again. 

Asbury's  journal  not  only  gives  us  an  account  of 
his  work  for  the  Church,  but  is  filled  with  personal 
allusions,  and  we  see  what  were  his  spiritual  exer- 
cises and  what  his  intellectual  pursuits. 


32  Francis  As  bub  r. 

The  whole  story  of  his  religious  life  at  this  time 
may  be  found  in  a  few  statements.  All  is  presented 
in  them.  He  was  thoroughly  consecrated  to  God, 
and  had  but  one  aim,  and  that  was  to  do  his  will 
perfectly.  He  had  a  varying  experience  as  far  as 
feeling  was  concerned;  sometimes  he  w^as  much  de- 
pressed, sometimes  he  w^as  full  of  peace,  sometimes 
severely  tempted,  but  he  was  alw^ays  triumphant. 
It  mattered  not  how  he  felt,  his  work  was  always 
done. 

Mr.  Rankin  did  not  understand  him.  He  under- 
rated him,  and  perhaps  Mr.  Asbury  was  a  little  sus- 
picious of  Mr.  Rankin,  and  thought  his  motives  oth- 
er than  they  were.  He  had,  how^ever,  no  serious  dis- 
agreement w-ith  him  while  he  was  in  Maryland  dur- 
ing this  stay. 

He  was  very  diligent  in  reading,  and  his  reading 
was  of  the  solidest  kind — Neal's  History  of  the  Puri- 
tans, the  Life  of  Calvin,  the  Reign  of  Christ,  by 
Guiso,  and  Church  history.  One  can  hardly  see 
how^  he  could  have  found  time  for  any  reading  or 
study,  but  he  was  constantly  at  work. 

His  old  friend  Captain  Webb  came  out  to  see 
him,  and  remained  in  Baltimore  for  a  little  while. 
The  Conference  was  to  meet  at  Philadelphia  the 
last  of  May,  and  after  a  year  of  useful  work  in  Mary- 
land he^^ent  to  its  session.  At  this  Conference  the 
young  Englishman  wiio  had  come  over  the  year  be- 
fore, Joseph  Yearby,  was  admitted  into  the  con- 
nection, and  Philip  Gatch,  a  young  Marylander; 
but  Straw^bridge  was  left  out  of  the  minutes,  and 
Asbury-s  old  companion,  Richard  Wright,  was  sent 
home.     The  stuff  of  which  he  was  made  was  not 


Francis  As  bury.  33 

stern  enough  for  the  Spartan  demands  of  men  like 
liankin  and  Asbury,  and  he  was  sent  back  to  Mr. 
Wesley  to  be  used  by  him  in  England,  and  disappears 
as  far  as  we  are  concerned. 

Poor,  brave,  conscientious  Strawbridge  was  not 
willing  to  submit  to  the  demands  made  upon  him. 
He  was  willing  to  preach,  and  willing  to  suffer,  and 
willing  to  die;  but  he  was  not  willing  to  refuse  the 
ordinances  to  people  who  otherwise  could  not  have 
(hem  because  these  good  churchmen  said  so.  He 
was  not  punished,  but  simply  ignored;  and  now 
there  were  only  nine  assistants,  but  seven  young- 
helpers  were  admitted  on  trial. 
3 


CnAPTEE  V. 

Mr.  Asbury  in  New  York  and  Baltimore — New  York  Again — 
Discouragements — Mr.  Rankin  and  Mr.  Asbury — Richard 
Wright  Goes  Home — Asbury'e  Discipline — Religious  Expe- 
rience— Feebleness  of  Body — Goes  Southward — Maryland 
Again. 

THE  Conference  of  1774  closed,  and  Mr.  Asburj 
was  appointed  again  to  New  Y^ork,  and  he  was 
soon  at  his  place.  He  was  sick  and  tired.  Mr. 
Eankin  was  overbearing  and  inconsiderate,  and  Mr. 
Asbury  said  that  but  for  the  fact  that  he  was  con- 
scious of  the  truth  and  goodness  of  the  cause  he 
would  have  gone  back  to  England.  He  always 
found  preaching  a  great  help  for  his  depressed  spir- 
its, and  after  preaching  he  went  to  see  the  incorri- 
gible Wright.  Alas!  Wright  had  little  taste  for 
spiritual  subjects,  and  his  more  pious  associate  says : 
"Lord,  keep  me  from  all  superfluity  of  dress  and 
from  preaching  empty  stuff  to  please  the  ear.  Thus 
he  has  fulfilled  as  a  hireling  his  day." 

Asbury  did  not  find  all  the  congregation  at  the 
stone  church  glad  to  see  him;  indeed,  it  was  de- 
cidedly otherwise.  "Mr.  C.  had  w^ritten  him  an 
abusive  letter,  and  was  still  exerting  his  unfriendly 
force."  Nearly  all,  however,  were  pleased  to  have 
him  come  again,  and  some  were  comforted  with  the 
assurance  he  gave  that  the  society  should  be  purged. 
He  believed  in  drastic  remedies,  as  one  can  see  by 
(34) 


FliANCJS  ASBURY.  35 

reference  to  his  memoranda  of  the  medicines  he 
used  on  himself,  and  he  was  not  inclined  to  spare 
those  committed  to  his  care. 

The  most  rigid  Montanist  was  not  more  uncom- 
promising than  Asbury  w^as.  The  society  was  no 
hospital  to  help  the  sick  to  convalescence,  and  if 
the  tares  were  in  the  field,  up  the  tares  m.ust  come. 
The  society  was  intended  to  help  men  and  women  to 
be  good  who  were  anxious  to  be  so,  and  its  rules  w^ere 
laid  down  for  that  purpose,  and  those  rules  "could 
be  observed,  and  ought  to  be  observed,  and  must  be 
observed,"  He  went  to  the  St.  Paul's  Church  as 
usual,  but  clearly  saw  where  the  gospel  ministry 
was.  Evidently  it  was  in  his  view  at  the  Methodist 
meetinghouse  on  John  street.  He  went  out  into 
the  meadows — where  that  was  w^e  do  not  know,  but 
long  lines  of  buildings  have  doubtless  covered  those 
meadows  long  ago — and  there  preached  with  plain- 
ness and  power,  and  then  preached  in  the  city  on 
Tuesday  evening,  and  on  Wednesday  felt  his  heart 
glowing  with  divine  love.  "Blessed  be  God,"  he 
says,  "my  soul  is  kept  in  peace  and  power  and  love." 
His  stay  in  New  York  was  uneventful;  he  spent  the 
larger  part  of  his  time  in  the  city  and  made  regular 
preaching  tours  into  the  country  round  about.  His 
old  adversary,  Mr.  Lupton,  was  entirely  changed. 
He  was  on  the  best  of  terms  with  Asbury  now  that 
his  old  favorite,  Wright,  was  gone. 

The  year  in  New  York  was  one  of  great  trial  in 
many  ways.  The  society  was  not  what  he  thought 
it  ought  to  be.  There  had  been  undue  haste  in  re- 
ceiving people  into  it,  and  their  hearts  were  not  right. 
Mr.  Rankin  was  not  agreeable,  and  wrote  him  un 


36  Francis  As  bury. 

pleasant  letters;  his  health  was  not  good,  for  he 
had  now  been  sick  ten  months  and  many  days  close- 
ly confined,  but  yet  had  preached  three  hundred 
times  and  ridden  nearly  two  thousand  miles.  In 
all  these  trials  and  toils  the  heart  of  the  pure  young 
man  was  moving  heavenward,  and  one  day  he  says: 
''My  soul  is  not  so  intently  devoted  to  God  as  1  would 
have  it,  though  my  desires  for  spirituality  are  very 
strong."  Then  again:  "My  heart  enjoys  great  free- 
dom and  much  peace,  and  love  both  toward  God 
and  man.  Lord,  ever  keep  me  from  all  sin  and  in- 
crease the  graces  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  my  soul."  "I 
was  much  blessed,"  he  says,  "at  intercession  to-day, 
but  shut  up  in  preaching  to-night."  He  makes  great 
discoveries  of  defects  and  weaknesses.  He  rises 
early,  but  is  weak  in  body  and  mind.  "Now  his 
mind  is  calm  and  comfortable,  then  he  is  assaulted 
by  heavy  trials."  "His  soul  is  at  peace,  but  longs 
for  to  be  more  devoted  to  God,"  "He  feels  some 
conviction  for  sleeping  too  long,  and  his  mind  is 
troubled  about  a  conversation  between  Mr.R.,Mr.S., 
and  himself."  Then  his  mind  is  free,  and  his  soul 
delights  in  God.  "He  taketh  such  possession  of  my 
heart  as  to  keep  out  all  desire  for  created  objects. 
In  due  time  I  hope  through  Christ  to  enter  into  full 
fruition." 

I  have  cited  these  extracts  from  his  journal,  not 
that  they  are  imi:)ortant  as  giving  us  a  true  insight 
into  the  man,  but  to  show  how  varying  was  the  rec- 
ord he  made — as  varying  as  the  record  of  any  con- 
scientious man  who  morbidly  chronicles  all  the  phas- 
es of  his  changing  sensations.  In  all  this  time  his 
faith  never  wavered,  his  love  never  abated,  and  his 


Francis  As  bury.  37 

loyalty  to  God  had  not  the  slightest  weakening; 
and  one  cannot  but  regret  that  he  evidently  put  such 
great  stress  upon  these  phases  of  mere  sensation, 
and  cannot  but  regret  as  well  the  morbidity  with 
which  he  looked  upon  the  violation  of  some  arbi- 
trary rules  he  had  adopted  as  sins  against  God.  Mr. 
William  Law  thought  people  slept  too  much,  and  Mr. 
John  Wesley  became  his  disciple,  and  he  decided 
that  six  hours  were  enough  for  any  man  to  sleep; 
and  now  poor  Francis  Asbury,  sick  and  worn  down, 
instead  of  staging  in  bed  till  he  used  nature's  sweet 
restorer  as  physical  health  demanded,  w^as  dragging 
himself  out  of  bed  at  an  untimely  hour  or  reproach- 
ing himself  for  sleeping  too  late  because  he  did  not 
do  as  Mr.  Wesley  said.  One  could  only  wish  that 
his  good  old  mother  could  have  had  the  sick,  tired 
preacher  at  her  cottage  for  a  few  weeks,  that  she 
might  have  given  him  the  benefit  of  her  matronly 
counsel  and  care,  and  have  put  him  to  bed  early  in 
the  night,  and  kept  all  things  still  and  dark  until 
the  poor  invalid  had  rested  his  fill.  He,  however, 
gives  himself  and  his  feelings  what  seems  to  us  to 
be  a  little  higher  relative  position  than  they  were 
entitled  to,  and  these  extracts  taken  from  his  jour- 
nal almost  as  they  come  show  how  varving  were  his 
experiences.  IJis  pilgrim's  progress  had  more  than 
seven  stages:  "My  soul  is  in  peace,  but  longs  to  be 
more  spiritual."  "I  do  not  sufficiently  love  God 
nor  live  by  faith."  "Oh,  what  happiness  did  my 
soul  enjoy  with  God!"  "My  mind  was  much  taken 
up  with  God,  but  I  must  lament  that  I  am  not  per- 
fectly crucified  with  Christ."  "My  body  was  weak 
and  my  mind  much  tempted."     "My  soul  is  strength- 


38  Francis  As  bub  y. 

eiied  with  might  and  filled  with  peace."  ''My 
heart  is  grieved  and  groaneth  for  want  of  more 
holiness."  "Unguarded  and  trivial  conversation 
has  brought  a  degree  of  spiritual  deadness."  There 
are  in  his  journal  many  like  entries,  which  we 
might  extract,  but  these  are  sufficient.  The  man 
who  never  has  a  thrill  of  spiritual  joy  is  sadly  to  be 
j)itied,  but  he  is  to  be  pitied  also  who  longs  to  be 
thrilling  all  the  time.  The  man  who  has  no  sense  of 
sorrow  for  sin,  and  to  whom  a  conscience  never 
wakes,  is  certainly  to  be  pitied;  but  so  is  he  who  is 
ever  searching  for  some  reason  why  God  should 
condemn  him. 

He  gives  us  a  little  insight  into  the  way  in  which 
he  prepared  to  preach,  and  his  failure  sometimes  to 
succeed  in  expressing  himself  satisfactorily.  He 
was  diligent  as  a  pastor,  and  mentions  the  case  of  a 
poor  lost  girl  who  sent  for  him  when  she  was  dying,' 
and  to  whose  bedside  he  went  at  the  risk  of  cen- 
sure. 

He  kept  up  his  week-day  appointments  in  the 
country,  and  spent  his  time  otherwise  entirely  in  the 
city.  There  were  then  in  all  New  York  city  and 
state  only  two  hundred  and  twenty -two  members, 
and  while  care  had  been  used  to  purge  the  societies, 
there  were  still  those  whose  want  of  consistency 
greatly  grieved  the  young  pastor's  heart.  The  im- 
prudence of  some  and  the  loose  conduct  of  others, 
he  said,  grieved  him.  He  went  regularly  to  hear 
the  Dr.  E.  who  filled  St.  Paul's  pulpit.  As  he  does 
not  give  his  full  name,  and  his  remarks  are  by  no 
m-eans  complimentary,  we  need  not  try  to  discover 
who  he  was.     He  went  to  church  because  he  was  a 


FliANCIS  As  BURY.  39 

good  Christian^  and  it  was  his  duty  to  go  there;  but 
the  "doctor  went  on  with  his  trumpery  in  his  old 
strain,  or  was  on  his  old  tedious  subject  of  the  Lord's 
Supper.  He  cannot  be  at  a  loss  in  saying  the  same 
thing  over  and  over." 

Mr.  Asbury's  friends  wished  him  to  return  to 
Baltimore,  where  his  heart  was,  and  where  he  was 
much  needed,  but  Mr.  Rankin  refused  him  permis- 
sion to  go.  There  were  now  in  New  York  Rankin, 
Webb,  and  Asbury;  and  Asbury  asks  what  need 
can  there  be  for  two  preachers  to  preach  three  times 
a  v/eek  to  sixty  people.  "On  Thursday  night  about 
sixty  people  attended  to  hear  Captain  Webb.  This 
is  indeed  a  gloomy  prospect." 

Mr.  Asbury  was  sick,  and  things  bore  to  him  a 
somewhat  somber  look,  and  he  was  much  grieved 
at  Mr.  Rankin's  conversation.  What  the  genial 
Scotchman  said  which  grieved  him.,  we  do  not  know. 
In  truth,  like  some  other  young  invalids  of  real  good- 
ness, he  seems  to  have  been  somewhat  easily  grieved 
by  the  shortcomings  of  other  people  as  well  as  by  his 
own.  The  charge  was  too  small  for  two  men  like 
Rankin  and  Asbury,  and  matters  did  not  go  smooth- 
ly. Asbury  wrote  Wesley,  and  read  the  letters  to 
Rankin  on  the  matters  of  difference.  Rankin,  As- 
bury said,  "drove  the  people  away  by  telling  them 
how  bad  they  were  and  what  wonders  he  intended 
to  do."  At  this  day  it  looks  to  us  that  honest  Tom- 
mie  Rankin  was  a  little  arbitrary,  and  Mr.  Asbury 
certainly  so  regarded  him. 

One  of  Asbury's  numerous  ailments  came  early  in 
the  new  year,  with  more  than  usual  severity.  Jt 
was  an  ulcerated  throat,  for  which  he  kindly  gives 


40  Francis  As  bury, 

us  a  receipt  for  a  gargle  which  is  worth  preserving : 
"Sage  tea,  honey,  vinegar,  and  mustard;  and  after 
that  another  gargle  of  sage  tea,  alum,  rose  leaves, 
and  loaf  sugar,  to  strengthen  the  parts."  The  ail- 
ing throat  brought  Mr.  Rankin  to  his  bedside,  and 
there  was  sweetness  and  love  between  them.  At 
last  Mr.  Asbury  decided  to  follow  his  heart  and  go 
southward,  and  so  he  took  his  journey  to  Baltimore. 
Whether  Mr.  Kankin  consented  we  do  not  know\  but 
there  are  intimations  that  Mr.  Asbury  acted  on  his 
own  judgment. 

He  rode  on  horseback,  and  preached  as  he  went. 
One  of  his  happiest  homes  when  he  was  first  in 
Maryland  had  been  that  of  Joseph  Dallam,  where 
the  good  old  matron  had  treated  him  like  a  son ;  and 
as  it  was  on  his  way,  he  called  to  spend  an  hour,  and 
mentions  it  in  his  journal.  No  man  ever  had  a  ten- 
derer love  for  his  friends  than  Asbury  had  for  those 
who  had  dealt  kindly  with  him,  and  in  Maryland  he 
had  made  his  attachments  which  lasted  through  his 
life.  The  good  Eliza  Dallam  is  enshrined  in  the 
hearts  of  Methodists  because  of  her  tenderness  to 
the  young  and  often  suffering  missionary.  Asbury 
never  forgot  a  kindness,  and  was  never  ungrateful 
for  one,  and  she  had  nursed  him  like  a  child  when  he 
was  ill;  he,  therefore,  never  fails  to  mention  her. 

He  reached  Baltimore,  and  found  both  at  the  Point 
and  in  the  city  large  congregations  to  attend  the 
ministry  of  their  favorite  preacher.  It  is  evident 
that  Asbury  at  this  time  was  a  preacher  of  greater 
power  than  he  was  in  after  years.  After  he  became 
a  bishop  he  was  burdened  with  so  many  cares,  and 
so  constantly  in  motion  and  preached  so  frequently, 


Fit  AN  CIS  ASBURY.  41 

that  he  did  not  impress  men  from  the  pulpit  as  he  did 
at  this  time.  He  still  keijt  up  his  country  appoint- 
ments, and  mentions  preaching  at  William  Lynch's, 
where  the  wealthy  Charles  Ridgeley  was  present. 
Charles  Ridgeley  was  the  jjlanter  who  gave  Straw- 
bridge  a  home.  Here  at  Lynch's  he  met  Straw- 
bridge,  and  they  agreed  fully  in  their  estimate  of  Mr. 
Rankin;  but  "all  these  matters,"  Mr.  Asbury  says, 
"I  can  silently  commit  to  God,  who  overrules  both 
in  earth  and  heaven." 

He  went  into  the  country,  into  the  Neck,  and 
preached  on  the  week  days.  Mr.  Otterbein,  the  good 
German  pietist,  who  was  xVsbury's  lifelong  friend, 
and  Benedict  Swope,  his  colleague,  were  living  in 
Baltimore  and  at  the  Point,  and  were  ready  to  co- 
operate with  him  in  his  work. 

Thus  in  labors  abundant  and  successful  he  spent 
his  appointed  time  in  Maryland. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

1115. 

Asbury's  Fii'st  Work  in  Virginia — Norfolk — Portsmouth — Isaac 
Luke — County  Work — Brunswick  Circuit. 

AT  the  Conference  of  1775  Francis  Asbury  was 
appointed  to  Norfolk,  and  in  the  last  of  May 
he  stepped  from  the  deck  of  one  of  the  Bay  sailing 
boats,  and  entered  upon  his  new  field.  One  hundred 
and  forty  years  before  this  the  vestry  of  the  Es- 
tablished Church  in  lower  Norfolk  had  called  Mr. 
Thomas  Harrison,  at  a  salary  of  £100,  to  take  charge 
of  Elizabeth  River  parish,  and  there  was  a  preach- 
ing place  in  a  private  house;  but  now  there  was  a 
new  town  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Elizabeth  River, 
as  well  as  the  older  on  the  other  side,  Norfolk,  the 
younger  of  the  twin  sisters,  was  quite  a  flourishing 
little  city.  The  tobacco  which  came  from  the  then 
western  counties  of  Virginia  and  from  North  Caro- 
lina, much  of  it,  found  shipment  to  England  here; 
and  into  the  port  came  the  cargoes  of  rum,  sugar, 
and  molasses  from  the  West  Indies.  There  were 
two  churches  of  the  Church  of  England,  one  in  Ports- 
mouth and  one  in  Norfolk.  A  few  years  before  this 
Robert  Williams  had  preached  his  first  sermon  in 
Portsmouth  on  the  courthouse  steps,  and  Mr.  Isaac 
Luke  had  become  his  adherent.  Mr.  Luke  secured 
an  old  storeroom  for  him  to  preach  in,  and  an  old 
playhouse  had  been  utilized  in  Norfolk.  Mr.  Pil- 
moor  and  Mr.  Wright  had  been  there,  and  there  had 
(42) 


Francis  As  bury.  43 

been  at  least  a  foothold  secured,  and  Mr.  Asbury 
found  the  way  laid  out. 

The  people  of  the  twin  cities  were  noted  for  their 
wickedness.  Nothing  else  perhaps  could  have  been 
expected  from  their  surroundings;  but  now,  to  add 
to  Mr.  Asbury's  difficulties,  the  war  excitement  ran 
very  high.  The  contrary  winds  v/hich  had  tossed 
the  little  bark  for  a  week  on  the  Bay  were  but  typical 
of  the  trials  which  were  before  him.  There  were 
only  thirty  nominal  members,  and  few  of  these  were 
willing  to  keep  the  rules;  but  yet  he  could  gather 
these  early  summer  mornings  fifty  people  for  morn- 
ing service,  and  one  hundred  and  fifty  at  night.  The 
change  from  the  well-appointed  charge  in  New  York 
and  the  hospitable  counties  around  Baltimore  to 
the  friendlessness  of  Norfolk  was  rather  chilling, 
but  he  consoles  himself  with  the  thought  that  much 
ballast  is  necessary  to  keep  the  ship  steady,  and 
that  he  needed  humility.  He  went  on  with  his  work, 
preaching  in  Norfolk  and  Portsmouth  three  times 
on  Sunday,  and  meeting  the  society  besides.  On 
Tuesday  he  skirted  the  Dismal  Swamp,  and  went 
into  St.  Bride's  parish  and  worked  between  Norfolk 
and  Portsmouth.  Gloomy  as  was  the  prospect,  they 
tried  to  get  a  subscription  for  a  church  building,  but 
could  raise  only  a  little  over  |150.  He  had  an  ap- 
pointment six  miles  from  Portsmouth  toward  Suf- 
folk, one  at  Mill  Creek,  one  at  Northwest  Woods,  one 
at  Mr.  H.'s,  and  one  at  Craney  Island.  The  people 
came  in  from  the  country  to  Norfolk  to  hear  him,  and 
he  went  as  he  could  into  the  country  during  the 
week,  and  in  the  cities  on  Sunday.  He  tried  to  en- 
force the  rules,  and  as  usual  met  with  opposition. 


4A  Francis  Asbuuy. 

While  he  was  in  the  midst  of  these  troubles,  Mr. 
Rankin,  Mr.  Rodda,  and  Mr.  Dromgoole  wrote  him 
that  they  had  decided  to  go  back  to  England;  but 
he  would  not  consent  to  leave  these  three  thousand 
souls,  and  so  he  wrote  to  Mr.  Shadford.  His  letter 
to  them  seems  to  have  had  its  effect,  for  it  was  two 
years  after  this  before  the  Englishmen  did  return, 
lie  worked  faithfully  and  zealously,  and  in  Septem- 
ber he  had  a  three  weeks'  -attack  of  fever.  The 
British  marines  landed  soon  after,  and  sacked  the 
printing  office,  and  carried  off  the  press  of  the  rebel- 
lions printer,  and  altogether  the  times  were  out  of 
joint.  He,  however,  remained  his  four  months  out, 
and  in  November  he  began  his  journey  southwest 
to  Brunswick.  During  these  days  of  almost  exile, 
when  his  work  seemed  so  fruitless,  the  devoted  young 
preacher  was  filled  with  one  earnest  yearning;  it 
w^as  to  be  a  holy  man.  He  had  peace  and  joy  and 
constant  communion  with  God,  but  he  longed  for 
perfect  love. 

In  Brunswick  there  was  a  glorious  revival  fire 
blazing.  This  section  of  Virginia  at  that  time  was 
very  populous  and  very  prosperous.  The  Bruns- 
wick Circuit  included  in  its  boundaries  Brunswick, 
Sussex,  Surry,  Southampton.  Isle  of  Wight,  Din- 
widdie,  Lunenburg,  and  Mecklenburg,  and  George 
Shadford  had  under  his  charge  a  corps  of  most  ef- 
ficient assistants.  There  had  been  a  most  wonder- 
ful revival  which  began  under  the  ministry  of  Dev- 
erenx  Jarratt,  and  which  Robert  Williams,  w-ho 
died  while  Asbury  was  in  Portsmouth,  had  done  so 
much  to  advance.  The  country  was  thickly  settled, 
and  the  well-to-do  farmers,  who  peopled  it  and  who 


Francis  Asnunr,  45 

lived  plainly,  but  in  solid  comfort,  had  been  brought 
up  as  Church-of-England  people,  but  the  Church 
had  secured  no  hold  upon  them.  When  the  fervid 
Jarratt,  and  the  saintly  Williams,  and  the  gifted 
Shadford  had  preached  to  these  simple-hearted  peo- 
ple the  doctrines  of  the  Methodists,  they  spoke  in  an 
unknown  tongue,  but  at  last  such  a  revival  as  had 
not  been  known  to  this  time  in  America  began  among 
them.  After  passing  Southampton  Courthouse,  As- 
bury  entered  the  circuit,  and  met  Shadford  and 
Francis  Poythress,  John  Huey  and  James  Hartley, 
who  had  such  a  hard  time  in  Delaware  a  few  years 
afterwards.  Unhappily  for  us,  Mr.  Asbury  adopted 
the  English  custom  in  his  journal  of  merely  using 
initials,  and  we  are  at  a  loss  to  mark  out  his  line  of 
work.  He  went  through  Brunswick  into  Dinwiddle, 
and  met  Mrs.  Jarratt,  who  asked  him  to  come  into 
their  parish.  He  went  on  by  Parham's  to  Peters- 
burg. On  Sunday  he  preached  twice  in  Petersburg, 
where  he  said  many  of  the  x)eople  seemed  to  care  for 
none  of  these  things.  He  went  to  see  Jarratt,  and 
a  friendship  was  thus  begun  which  was  never  ended; 
and  after  the  death  of  the  good  churchman,  Asbury 
preached  his  funeral  sermon.  After  having  gone 
around  this  large  circuit  tv/ice,  which  took  him  three 
months,  he  left  Virginia  for  Philadelphia. 

It  will  be  noticed  that  Shadford,  Asbury,  and  Ran- 
kin seem  to  have  made  no  allusions  whatever  to  slav- 
ery in  these  their  first  visits.  Their  silence  on  this 
subject,  and  their  keeping  themselves  closely  to  their 
legitimate  work,  was  in  decided  contrast  with  the 
course  taken  years  afterwards.  It  is  not  likely  that 
slavery  was  more  agreeable  to  the  young  preacher 


46  Francis  Asbvey. 

now  than  it  was  ten  years  afterwards,  but  he  did 
not  then  feel  that  his  special  mission  was  its  over- 
throw. When  he  did  yield  to  this  pressure,  he 
found  that  the  course  he  had  at  first  adopted  was  the 
only  wise  one. 

He  now  began  his  journey  to  Philadelphia,  and 
calling  on  some  friends  in  Maryland,  preaching  as 
he  went,  he  at  last  reached  his  destination. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

1776. 

The  War  Time— Mr.  Wesley's  Mistake— Asbury's  View— Asbury 
Sick— Berkley  Bath— Preaching— Conference  at  Deer  Creek- 
Discussion  on  the  Sacraments — Trouble  with  Mr.  Eankin — 
Asbury  Left  Out  of  the  INIinutes— Goes  to  Annapolis— Test 
Oath— Retires  into  Delaware. 

THE  good  Mr.  Vv^eslej,  not  satisfied  with  the 
troubles  he  had  at  home,  and  the  paper  battles 
with  the  Calvinists,  and  not  content  with  making 
rules  which  his  preachers  vv'ere  to  keep  and  not  to 
mend,  had  taken  the  colonies  in  hand,  and  was  try- 
ing to  show  the  English  people  that  the  taxation  of 
the  Americans  was  no  tyranny,  and  that  the  rebels 
should  disperse;  but,  alas!  the  rebels  did  not  dis- 
perse; and  little  good  did  his  honestly-written  pam- 
phlets do,  and  much  embarrassment  did  they  cause 
his  preachers  in  x\merica.  It  was  thirty  years  after 
the  war  before  the  Methodist  could  purge  himself 
from  the  charge  of  being  a  Tory.  Mr,  Rankin  and 
Mr.  Rodda  and  Mr.  Boardman  fully  indorsed  Mr. 
V^^esley,  but  Mr.  Asbury  thought  his  course  very  un- 
wise. The  Continental  Congress  met  in  Philadel- 
phia, and  here  Asbury  was  stationed,  but  it  was  to 
him  as  though  it  had  not  been.  He  had  still  that 
pertinacious  ague,  and  was  unable  to  get  to  Confer- 
ence. It  met  in  May,  and  he  was  appointed  to 
Maryland  again. 

When  he  found  that  he  was  appointed  to  Balti- 
more, he  began  his  iournev  southward;  reached  his 

(47) 


48  Francis  As  bury. 

old  friend  Dallam's,  and  thence  came  to  the  city. 
He  began  his  .work  with  his  accustomed  earnest- 
ness. On  the  week  days  he  went  out  into  the  coun- 
tvy  to  preach,  and  returned  to  the  city  for  his  Sun- 
day work.  His  child  in  the  gosi)el,  Philip  Kogers, 
and  his  good  wife  w^ere  still  faithful,  and  the  rich 
Harry  Gough  and  his  lovely  wife  had  been  con- 
verted. Their  elegant  home  at  Perry  Hall  had  now 
been  opened  to  the  Methodist  preachers,  and  re- 
mained so  for  forty  years.  Gough  was  of  noble 
family,  and  was  the  heir  of  a  large  estate  in  En- 
gland. He  then  was  worth  |300,000,  and  at  this 
time  would  be  rated  as  worth  largely  over  |1,000,- 
000.  He  had  been  a  frivolous,  dissolute  man,  who 
had  been  influenced  by  his  desire  for  amusement  to 
go  and  hear  Asbury.  His  wife  had  already  been 
awakened,  and  he  had  opposed  her;  but  now,  when 
he  heard  Asbury,  he  was  awakened  and  genuinely 
converted.  He  became  a  warm  friend  of  Asbury, 
and  we  shall  see  him  often  in  the  course  of  his  life. 

These  were  stirring  times.  The  battles  around 
Boston  had  been  fought,  and  the  Continental  army 
had  been  organized;  the  Declaration  of  Independ- 
ence had  been 'made;  but  Asbury  in  his  journal 
makes  no  mention  of  these  events  as  having  taken 
place.  He  went  on  oblivious  of  everything  but  his 
work.  The  fact  that  Mr.  Wesley  had  so  unwisely 
intermeddled  with  the  American  matter,  and  writ- 
ten so  sharply  against  the  course  of  the  colonies, 
and  that  so  many  of  his  preachers  were  Englishmen, 
made  it  a  very  disagreeable  thing  for  Mr.  Asbury  to 
remain  where  he  was  exposed  to  suspicion,  and  at 
Nathan  Perigau'she  was  fined  £.^  for  preaching  with- 


Francis  As  bury.  49 

out  taking  a  license;  but  he  went  on  his  way,  saying 
nothing  on  the  great  political  questions  of  the  day. 
He  says  that  while  riding  along  the  highway,  soaring 
out  of  the  regions  of  his  duty,  he  became  inattentive 
to  what  immediately  concerned  him,  and  overset  and 
badly  broke  his  chaise.  He  could  not  get  entirely 
Avell.  The  quartan  ague  that  two  years  before  had 
fixed  itself  on  him,  and  the  terrible  putrid  sore 
throat  he  had  in  New  York,  had  so  reduced  him  that 
he  resolved  to  take  a  little  respite  from  toil,  and 
seek  health;  and  as  Mr.  Gough  and  Mr,  Merryman 
were  going  to  the  springs  in  Berkley,  he  went  also. 

There  were  a  number  of  people  at  the  springs,  and 
at  the  cottages  of  Mr.  Gough  and  Mr.  Merryman 
they  had  services  every  evening.  His  stay  at  the 
springs  was  very  profitable  to  him  both  in  soul  and 
body.  He  preached  nearly  every  day,  visited  the 
sick,  went  to  the  German  settlement  nine  miles 
away  and  preached  to  the  Germans;  read  De  Renty 
and  Haliburton  and  Walsh  and  Brainerd;  prayed 
a  great  deal,  and  found  much  comfort  in  his  soli- 
tary musings;  and  after  a  two  weeks'  stay  left  Bath 
with  the  opinion  that  it  was  the  worst  and  best 
place  in  which  he  had  been:  the  best  for  health,  the 
worst  for  religion. 

He  returned  to  his  work  in  September.  He 
preached  at  Bush  Forest,  Deer  Creek,  Nathan  Per- 
igau's,  the  Forks,  Merryman's,  Greer's,  and  kept  up 
his  weekly  appointments  at  the  Point  and  in  the 
city.  His  circuit  was  large,  but  he  had  two  young 
helpers.  Appointments  in  the  city  were  sometimes 
filled  by  others,  and  the  services  seem  to  have  been 
kept  up  regularly.  Watch-night  services  were  not 
4 


50  Francis  As  bury, 

only  held  then,  as  they  are  now,  at  the  going  out  of 
the  old  year  and  the  coming  in  of  the  new,  but  were 
also  held  occasionally  without  reference  to  any  par- 
ticular time. 

The  seat  of  war  was  somewhat  remote  from  Mary- 
land, and  while  there  was  agitation  there  was  little 
of  actual  disturbance.  Mr.  Asbury's  companions, 
Mr.  Rankin,  Mr.  Shadford,  and  Mr.  Rodda,  were  pro- 
nounced Englishmen,  and  it  is  likely  they  sympa- 
thized with  the  mother  country  in  the  contest;  at 
any  rate,  they  determined  to  go  back  to  England. 
Mr.  Asbury  had  been  longer  in  America  than  any  of 
them,  and  if  he  did  not  sympathize  with  America  he 
had  no  disposition  to  take  sides  against  her  nor  to 
desert  his  flock,  and  could  not  make  up  his  mind  to 
go  back,  and  so  decided  to  remain.  The  Englishmen 
did  not  go  back  for  the  present,  and,  as  Mr.  Shadf ord 
was  willing  to  take  his  place  on  the  Baltimore  Cir- 
cuit, Asbury  decided  to  go  to  Annapolis  and  begin 
a  new  work. 

Annapolis  was  then,  as  it  is  now,  the  capital  of  Ma- 
ryland, and  was  the  seat  of  much  elegance,  and,  alas! 
of  much  wickedness,  and  especially  infidelity.  He 
went  to  the  city,  and  preached  his  first  sermon  at  the 
widow  D.'s,  and  then  preached  in  an  old  playhouse 
used  as  a  church.  In  and  around  Annapolis  he 
preached  with  small  success  until  the  yearly  Confer- 
ence, which  met  in  Deer  Creek  the  20th  of  May. 
This  was  the  Conference  at  which  the  first  note  of 
serious  discord  was  struck.  The  American  preach- 
ers were  restless  under  the  condition  of  things,  and, 
as  they  were  largely  in  the  majority,  they  were  dis- 
posed to  have  the  ordinances.     Asbury  and  his  Eng- 


FbANCIS  ASBUIiY.  61 

lisli  brethren  recognized  this  as  the  beginning  of  di- 
vision from  the  English  Wesieyans,  and  they  sternly 
opposed  it.  When  the  appointments  were  made, 
Mr.  Asbury's  name  did  not  appear  as  having  an  ap- 
pointment. Rodda  and  Shadford  were  appointed, 
and  Mr.  Rankin  w^as  general  assistant.  Mr.  Asbury 
is  mentioned  as  one  of  the  assistants,  but  not  other- 
wise. The  Conference  pledged  itself  to  take  no  step 
to  separate  itself  from  the  English  brethren. 

Why  his  name  was  left  out  has  not  been  explained, 
but  the  fact  was  that  Mr.  Wesley  had  ordered  Mr. 
Asbury  to  return  to  England,  and  he  would  not  go. 
Mr.  Rankin  did  not  understand  his  colleague,  and 
wrote  freely,  if  not  favorably,  about  him  to  Mr.  Wes- 
ley, and  Mr.  Wesley  said  in  a  letter  to  Mr.  Rankin: 
^'I  doubt  not  that  you  and  brother  Asbury  will  part 
friends.  I  shall  hope  to  see  him  at  the  Conference. 
He  is  quite  an  upright  man.  I  apprehend  he  will 
go  through  his  work  more  cheerfully  when  he  is 
within  a  little  distance  from  me."  And  again:  ^M 
rejoice  over  honest  Francis  Asbury,  and  hope  he 
will  no  more  enter  into  temptation."  Mr.  Asbury 
could  not  take  out  a  license  to  preach  in  Maryland 
Vvithout  taking  the  oath,  and  he  was  not  willing  to 
do  that;  but  the  same  thing  was  true  of  Shadford, 
and  he  was  sent  to  Baltimore.  As  Mr.  Rankin  made 
the  minute,  it  is  likely  that  Mr.  Asbury's  name  was 
left  off  by  his  authority. 

Asbury  went  from  the  Conference  to  the  circuit 
he  had  traveled  before  he  went  to  Conference.  He 
spent  a  little  while  at  Cough's,  and  mentions  that  he 
had  left  off  Ms  wig.  To  us  of  this  day  the  custom 
of  cutting:  off  the  natural  hair  and  wenrinc  an  un- 


52  Francis  Asbury, 

comfortable  wig  seems  to  rise  to  the  height  of  ab- 
surdity; but  even  Mr.  Asbury,  who  had  great  fear  of 
the  good  women  of  society  conforming  to  the  world 
in  their  headdresses,  wore  his  wig  for  five  years  after 
he  came  to  America. 

He  had  a  rather  unfruitful  field  around  Annaijolis. 
He  preached  at  the  widow  D.'s,  at  Mr.  H.'s,  Mr.  J. 
P.'s,  the  schooihouse,  South  River,  and  Maggoty. 
The  congregation  in  Annapolis  sometimes  amounted 
to  fifty,  chiefly  women.  He  preached  very  earnestly, 
if  not  very  successfully.  Mr.  Rankin  and  himself  had 
their  usual  collisions  about  appointments,  and  at  last, 
in  September,  Mr.  Rodda  and  Mr.  Rankin  went  home. 

Mr.  Asbury,  in  a  letter  to  Joseph  Benson,  says: 
"Mr.  Rankin  vras  in  favor  of  bringing  the  colonies 
into  subjection  at  once.''  Mr.  Rcdda  distributed  the 
king's  proclamation  and  ran  away  to  the  British 
fleet.  Mr.  Shadford  and  Mr.  Asbury  found  matters 
getting  too  warm  for  their  comfort.  Mr.  Shadford 
decided  to  go  to  England,  and  Mr.  Asbury  crossed 
the  bay  to  the  eastern  shore  early  in  January,  1778. 
Here,  in  Kent,  he  found  his  old  friend  Hinson,  and 
saw^  that  the  seed  he  had  sown  when  he  came  to  Kent 
four  years  before  had  been  fruitful,  and  there  were 
flourishing  societies  now;  but  Maryland  was  not  a 
safe  refuge  for  him,  and  he  went  on  to  Delaware, 
where,  near  Dover,  his  old  friend  Thomas  White 
had  a  home,  and  there  he  was  gladly  welcomed. 

He  never  returned  to  Maryland  for  pastoral  worlc. 
He  next  came  as  Mr.  Wesley's  assistant,  and  then  as 
the  Bishop  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church  in 
America. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

1118. 

Life  in  Delaware — Tliomas  White — Asbury's  Studies — Stormy 
Times — The  Conference  at  Leesburg — Asbury's  Called  Con- 
ference— Troubles  in  the  Conferences — Asbury's  Hard  Con- 
dition— A  Truce  Made. 

THE  oath  which  was  prescribed  in  Maryland,  and 
which  Asbury  refused  to  talve,was  designed  for 
those  ministers  who  were  suspected  of  secret  sym- 
pathy with  the  king.  The  fine  of  £5,  to  which  he 
alludes  as  collected  three  years  before,  was  under 
the  colonial  law,  and  was  laid  on  all  unlicensed 
preachers.  When  he  found,  as  he  did  early  in  1778, 
that  he  must  take  an  oath  that  he  could  not  con- 
scientiously take,  he  resolved  quietly  to  withdraw 
from  Maryland.  Not  far  from  Dover,  in  Delaware, 
lived  a  well-to-do  farmer,  Thomas  White.  He  was 
judge  of  the  county  court,  and  was  known  as  Judge 
White.  He  was  a  stanch  Church-of-England  man, 
and  while  he  was  not  an  enemy  to  the  American 
cause  he  was  not  an  active  participant  in  the  Rev- 
olution. He  was  a  profoundly  religious  man,  and 
was  deeply  attached  to  Asbury,  who  sought  his  homo 
for  seclusion.  Here  he  remained  for  a  part  of  three 
years,  and  had  more  time  for  study  than  at  any  other 
time  in  his  life. 

Mr.  Asbury  had  found  time  to  study  Greek  and 
Hebrew,  but  his  journal  does  not  tell  us  when.  For 
several  years  after  he  came  to  America  there  is  no 
mention  of  this  fact,  but  now  in  the  quietude  of  his 

(58) 


54  Francis  Asbuey. 

Delaware  retreat  ke  si^ends  much  time  ou  the  Greek 
Testament.  He  read  the  Testaments  in  Latin  and 
Greek  and  the  Old  Testament  Scriptures  in  Hebrew, 
and  at  Thomas  White's  home,  and  at  that  of  Edward 
White,  his  brother,  he  now  had  his  preaching  places. 
It  was  dangerous  to  move  about  in  Delaware  at  that 
time.  J.  Hartley  had  been  arrested  in  Queen  Anne 
county,  Maryland,  and  imprisoned.  Gatch  had  been 
assaulted  and  lost  his  eye,  and  Garrettson  had  been 
knocked  from  his  horse,  and  sliortlj^  after  this  Thom- 
as White  himself  was  arrested  and  carried  to  pris- 
on; and  these  were  Americans,  not  Englishmen. 
Mr.  Fletcher  and  Mr.  Wesley  had  both  rendered 
themselves  obnoxious  to  the  x\mericans  by  their 
course,  and  Mr.  Asbury  was  Mr.  Wesley's  special 
representative.  Mr.  Asbury  was  afraid  of  no  man; 
he  seems  never  to  have  known  what  fear  was;  but 
he  was  afraid  of  reckless  daring,  and  of  refusing  to 
heed  the  directions  of  Providence;  and  so  he  re- 
mained in  seclusion,  only  preaching  as  he  could  get 
an  opportunity.  He  had  a  good  preaching  place  in 
the  tobacco  barn  of  Judge  White,  and  while  he  did 
not  leave  his  retreat  to  go  any  considerable  distance, 
he  preached  somewhere  nearly  every  day.  He  laid 
a  plan  for  himself  to  travel  and  preach  nine  days  in 
two  weeks.  He  was  constantly  engaged  in  preach- 
ing or  study,  and  especially  in  earnest  spiritual  ex- 
ercises. He  did  not  think  he  had  secured  that  high- 
est of  earthly  boons  to  him,  perfect  love,  but  he  was 
groaning  after  it. 

The  Conference  met  in  Leesburg,  Virginia,  May  19, 
and  while  it  w\as  in  session  Mr.  Cox  held  a  quar- 
terlv  meeting  in  Judge  White's  barn  in  Delaware, 


Francis  Asbuby.  55 

and  Mr.  Anbury  preached.  Mr.  Asbiirj  does  not 
mention  the  Annual  Conference  in  Virginia  at  all  in 
liis  journal;  but  while  he  says  nothing  of  it,  it  is 
evident  that  he  was  greatly  concerned  on  account 
of  the  state  of  the  Church.  The  young  Americans 
who  were  now  in  control  of  the  Conference  were 
without  a  leader.  Rankin  was  gone  from  xVmer- 
ica  with  all  the  English  preachers  except  Asbury. 
Asbury  had  seen  the  temper  of  the  young  Amer- 
icans at  Deer  Creek  the  year  before,  when,  as  he 
said  in  his  letter  to  Shadford,  he  had  been  una- 
ble to  resist  the  tide  in  favor  of  separation.  Per- 
haps he  had  no  special  desire  to  go  to  Leesburg, 
and  as  he  did  not  go,  the  Conference  entirely  ig- 
nored him.  He  was  not  mentioned  at  all  in  the  min- 
utes. It  was  evident  to  Asbury  that  matters  wer<t 
getting  into  a  shape  by  no  means  pleasing  to  him, 
and  he  feared  all  the  hard  labor  of  these  past  years 
would  come  to  naught.  It  was  no  time  to  discuss 
theories,  he  had  to  face  a  condition.  He  was  the 
isenior  preacher  on  the  continent.  The  Conference 
was  entirely  cut  off  from  Mr.  Wesley,  and  he  decided 
as  the  senior  to  take  an  extraordinary  step.  He  re- 
solved to  call  a  Conference  of  such  preachers  as 
were  within  his  reach,  and  take  control  of  it.  The 
regular  Conference  had  assembled,  and  had  made 
provision  for  a  separation.  He  believed  that  unless 
something  was  done  separation  was  inevitable,  and 
he  determined,  if  possible,  to  prevent  it.  It  is  not 
my  province  to  express  opinions,  but  to  state  facts, 
yet  one  can  do  no  less  than  say  for  Asbury  that  lie 
hclievcf!  he  was  not  usurping  authority,  and  that  he 
was  doiuLi"  wliat  Mr.  Wesley  wished;  and  in  tliat  be- 


QQ  F MAN  CIS  As  BURY, 

lief  he  was  sustained  by  after  facts,  and  bis  course 
had  Mr.  Wesley's  full  indorsement. 

He  wrote  to  his  old  friends  Gatch,  Dickins,  and 
Dromgooie,  urging  them  to  interpose;  and  he  called 
and  took  charge  of  a  Conference  in  1778.  It  is  for 
the  historian  to  give  a  full  account  of  the  little  Con- 
ference, as  Jesse  Lee  calls  it.  It  recognized  Asbury 
as  chief  pastor,  and  passed  sundry  resolutions,  and 
proceeded  as  if  it  was  the  only  ecclesiastical  body 
among  the  Methodists. 

The  few  brethren  who  met  with  him  were  willing 
to  cooperate  with  him,  and  he  gave  them  their  ap- 
pointments, took  one  for  himself,  and  soon  was  hard 
at  work.  Though  the  war  was  going  on,  the  revival 
in  Delaware  under  Garrettson  and  others  was  truly 
wonderful.  Asbury  began  now  to  venture  out  at 
greater  distances  from  Judge  Wliite's,  but  he  was 
still  in  seclusion  and  was  diligent  in  the  work  of  ad- 
vancing his  spiritual  welfare.  One  cannot  but  re- 
gret his  attention  to  a  certain  class  of  books  wliich 
led  him,  alw^ays  so  distrustful  of  himself,  to  draw 
such  invidious  comparisons  betw^een  himself  and 
others.  The  lives  of  De  Renty,  Haliburton,  and 
Walsh  he  seems  to  have  read  more  than  any  other 
books  but  his  "Bible,  and  they  had  no  little  to  do 
with  the  deep  depression  under  which  oftentimes 
he  sank.  He  was,  however,  no  recluse.  Philip 
Cox,  the  preacher  in  charge,  had  quarterly  meet- 
ings at  which  he  was  present  that  were  much  like 
the  camp  meetings  of  an  after  day.  People  came 
from  Sussex,  Somerset,  Queen  Anne,  Kent,  New- 
castle in  Delaware,  and  Philadelphia  in  Pennsyl- 
vania.    Mr.  McGaw,  an  Episcopal  rector,  adminis- 


F BANC  IS  As  BURY,  57 

tered  the  sacraments,  and  there  were  six  or  seven 
hundred  present.  Mr.  xVsbury  was  an  Eijiseopalian 
— he  believed  in  bishops,  and  had  no  objection  to 
prayer  books.  He  says,  September  10,  1779:  "I  be- 
gan reading  Camper  on  Ordination.  Much  pomp 
was  annexed  to  the  clerical  order.  Though  plausi- 
ble in  its  way,  I  believe  the  episcopal  mode  of  ordi- 
nation to  be  more  proper  than  that  of  ijresbyters.'' 
To  this  view  he  always  held.  To  get  a  view  of  his 
untiring  toils  we  take  the  record  of  a  few  days. 

On  Sunday  he  says:  "I  went  to  a  i^eople  I  tried 
near  two  years  ago  in  vain.  Monday  I  read  thirteen 
chapters  in  Revelation,  a  hundred  pages  in  Cam])er 
on  the  Consecrating  of  Bishops,  and  fifty  pages  in 
Salmon's  Grammar."  "It  is  plain  to  me  the  devil 
will  let  us  read  always  if  we  will  not  pray." 

"Tuesday  I  read  a  few  chapters  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment and  seventy  pages  in  Salmon's  Grammar. 

"Wednesday,  I  am  going  up  to  Kent,  and  thence 
to  Lewistowm. 

"Thursday,  called  at  the  widow  Beauchamp's, 
who  was  sick  but  happy  in  the  Lord." 

Rode  to  Lewistown:  "I  rode  thirty  miles,  and  on 
my  way  called  to  hear  an  Episcopal  minister.  He 
w^as  legal  to  all  intents  and  purposes." 

"Sunday,  went  to  Lewistown,  preached  in  the 
courthouse  twice.  Preached  Monday  at  nine  o'clock. 
Preached  on  Tuesday,  Wednesday,  Thursday,  Fri- 
day." Never  wearying,  never  ceasing,  he  was  al- 
ways at  work. 

These  extracts  are  but  samples  of  the  entries  in 
his  journal  when  he  was  in  retirement.  No  wonder 
he  said  he  never  did  harder  or  better  work  at  any 


58  FUANCIS  ASBUIIY. 

lime  tiiau  in  these  days  of  exile.  Hartley,  wlio  had 
beeD  licensed  to  preach  when  Asbury  was  in  Vir- 
ginia, and  who  had  been  imprisoned  in  Maryland 
for  preaching,  had  yielded  to  the  temi>tation  to  mar- 
ry, and  w^as  wedded.  The  somevvhat  cynical  As- 
bury says:  "I  find  the  care  of  a  wife  begins  to  hum- 
ble my  young  friend,  and  makes  him  very  teachable. 
I  have  always  thought  he  carried  great  sail,  but  he 
will  have  ballast  now."  The  paft  of  Delaware  where 
he  was  at  work  was  very  populous,  and  perhaps  few- 
spots  of  earth  have  been  blessed  with  a  more  able 
ministry  than  this  section  of  Maryland  was  at  this 
time.  Freeborn  Garrettson,  Philip  Cox,  Francis  As- 
bury, and  Mr.  McGaw,  the  Episcopal  minister  wlio 
was  the  Devereux  Jarratt  of  that  state,  were  among 
the  workers,  and  their  success  was  great. 

The  Conference  of  the  year  1779,  which  Mr.  As- 
bury had  called,  had  adjourned  to  meet  in  Balti- 
more in  1780,  and  Mr.  Asbury  was  in  charge  of  it 
when  it  met.  Of  no  one  thing  was  he  more  firmly 
convinced  than  that  he  and  those  who  were  with  him 
were  the  only  regular  Methodists  in  America.  He 
had  resolved  at  first  to  cut  loose  entirely  from  the 
Virginia  brethren,  then  he  decided  if  they  would  com- 
ply with  certain  terms  he  would  again  affiliate  with 
them.  They  had  sent  a  peace  commission,  Gatch 
and  Ellis,  to  Baltimore.  Asbury  offered  them  cer- 
tain conditions,  which  they  promptly  rejected.  He 
then  proposed  that  the  matter  of  administering  be 
deferred  a  twelvemonth.  They  thought  that  might 
do,  and  Asbury,  Garrettson,  and  Watters  decided  to 
go  to  Fluvanna,  which  they  did.  Here,  after  all 
hope  of  reconciliation  seems  to  have  been  lost,  while 


Francis  As  bury.  59 

Garrettson  and  Watters  were  praying,  the  noble  Vir- 
ginians decided  to  wait  another  year,  and  there  was 
harmony.  Mr.  Asbury  was  recognized  as  general 
assistant,  and  began  what  was  really  his  episcopal 
work. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

1781-1783. 

General  Assistant — Conference  in  Baltimore — Settlement  of 
Troubles — Through  the  Valley  of  Virginia — Allusion  to 
Straw  bridge — Through  Eastern  Virginia — First  Visit  to  North 
Carolina — His  Friends  Among  the  Episcopal  Clergy — Visits 
New  York,  Pennsylvania,  New  Jersey — Barratt's  Chapel,  1784 
— Letter  from  Asbury  to  Shad  ford. 

ASBUEY  began  his  journal  for  the  year  1781 
with  this  entry :  ''January  1,  2,  3,  4.  Pain,  pain, 
pain!"  No  wonder.  He  had'  been  troubled  again 
with  his  ulcerated  throat,  and  took  physic,  and  ap- 
plied two  blisters  afterwards — put  one  on  the  back 
of  his  neck  and  another  behind  the  ear;  had  some 
blood  taken  from  his  tongue  and  some  from  the  arm. 
This  was  on  December  31,  1780;  but  he  was  soon 
able,  despite  this  medication,  to  go  on  his  way,  and 
did  most  earaest  work  around  his  home  in  Delaware. 
He  now  went  into  Pennsylvania,  w^here  he  met  that 
v/onderful  man,  Benjamin  Abbott,  or,  as  he  vv^rites 
it,  Benjamin  Abbitt.  He  visited  the  Philadelphia 
society,  and  preached  in  Pennsylvania  and  Dela- 
ware until  April,  when  he  crossed  the  Chesapeake 
Bay,  and  rode  to  Mr.  Gough's  to  meet  the  Baltimore 
Conference. 

The  Conference  was  to  meet  in  Baltimore  in  May. 
Mr.  Asbury  determined  to  recognize  none  but  those 
who  stood  with  him  on  the  old  plan,  as  making  the 
Conference. 

During  this  vear,  1781,  according  to  the  minutes, 
(60) 


Francis  Asdury.  G1 

there  were  two  Conferences  held — one  at  Clioptank, 
April  10,  1781;  the  other  at  Baltimore,  April  24. 
Mr.  Asbury  inserts  the  minute  which  recognizes  the 
smaller  Conference  as  the  true  one.  He  says,  May 
IG:  ^'After  meeting,  we  rode  about  twenty  miles  to 
brother  White's,  where  about  twenty  preachers  met 
to  hold  a  Conference."  On  the  24th  he  says:  "Our 
Conference  began  at  Baltimore,  where  several  of  the 
preachers  attended  from  Virginia  and  North  Caro- 
lina. All  but  one  agreed  to  return  to  the  old  plan, 
and  give  up  the  administration  of  the  ordinances. 
Our  troubles  seem  to  be  over  in  that  quarter.  All 
was  conducted  in  peace  and  love." 

When  this  Conference  met,  a  pledge  was  asked  for 
from  those  who  would  preach  old  Methodist  doctrine 
and  discountenance  a  separation.  There  were  thir- 
ty-nine who  signed  this  pledge.  "Why  was  this 
Conference  begun  at  Choptank?"  Say  the  minutes: 
"To  examine  those  who  could  not  go  to  Baltimore. ' 
"Is  there  any  precedent  for  this  in  the  economy  of 
Methodism?"  "Yes;  Mr.  Wesley  generally  holds  a 
Conference  in  Ireland."  As  Choptank  was  only  a 
few  days'  ride  from  Baltimore,  and  as  all  the  preach- 
ers who  were  there  were  in  all  likelihood  in  Balti- 
more afterwards,  the  answer  does  not  seem  quite 
satisfactory.  John  Dickins  would  not  submit,  and 
he  desisted  from  traveling,  to  come  back  some  years 
afterwards  and  die  in  the  work.  This  was  the  end 
of  the  trouble  about  ordination. 

Asbury  visited  Martinsburg  now  for  the  first  time. 
The  beautiful  section  of  Virginia  known  as  the  Val- 
ley of  Virginia  had  been  exposed  to  Indian  forays 
until  a  very  few  years  before  this  time,  and  had  been 


62  Francis  As  bury, 

occupied  by  daring  settlers  of  an  entirely  different 
class  from  those  with  whom  Mr.  x\sbury  had  been 
associated  in  eastern  Virginia  and  Maryland.  Ger- 
mans and  Scotch-Irish  people,  intermixed  with  east- 
ern Virginians  who  were  willing  to  face  perils,  made 
the  population.  Much  of  the  country  was  very  rug- 
ged, and  the  forests  were  wild;  but  he  says:  '^Vl- 
though  alone,  I  have  blessed  company,  and  some- 
times think  w^ho  so  happy  as  myself."  He  found 
Methodists  and  a  Methodist  preacher  even  here. 
He  says:  "We  had  twelve  miles  to  R.'s  along  a 
bushy,  hilly  road.  A  poor  woman,  with  a  little 
horse  without  a  saddle,  went  with  us  up  and  down 
the  hills;  and  when  she  came  to  the  place  appointed, 
the  Lord  met  with  and  blessed  her  soul." 

He  now  went  southward  along  the  south  branch 
of  the  Potomac.  "Blessed  be  God,"  he  says,  "for 
health  and  peace.  We  found  some  difficulty  in  cross- 
ing the  Cajion  River.  Three  men  very  kindly  car- 
ried us  over  in  a  canoe,  and  afterwards  rode  our 
horses  over  the  stream  without  fee  or  reward. 
About  five  we  reached  W.  R.'s.  I  laid  me  down  to 
rest  on  a  chest,  and,  using  my  clothes  for  a  covering, 
slept  pretty  well.  Here  I  found  need  of  patience. 
The  scenery  was  grand,  though  the  roads  were 
rough."  He  had,  he  says,  about  three  hundred  peo- 
ple to  hear  him,  but  there  were  many  whisky-drink- 
ers who  brought  with  them  so  much  of  the  powders 
of  the  devil  that  he  had  but  little  satisfaction  in 
preaching. 

He  found  even  here  a  few  who  were  striving  to  be 
entirely  sanctified,  and  says:  "It  is  hard  for  those 
to  preach  this  doctrine  who  have  not  experimentally 


Francis  As  bury,  G3 

attained  it  or  are  not  striving  with  all  their  hearts 
to  possess  it."  In  these  wilds  he  was  reading  Fletch- 
er's Checks,  which  had  been  greatly  blessed  to  him. 

In  crossing  the  mountains  with  William  Par- 
tridge, they  were  overtaken  by  night,  so  they  secured 
their  horses  to  some  trees  and  waited  quietly  till  the 
return  of  the  day.  They  slept  among  the  rocks, 
though  much  annoyed  by  the  gnats.  In  all  this 
tour,  when  he  was  in  a  house,  he  was  compelled  to 
sleep  on  the  floor  every  night,  but  was  full  of  grati- 
tude to  God  that  he  fared  so  well. 

He  reached  Leesburg  July  31st,  crossed  over  into 
Maryland,  and  went  to  the  quarterly  meeting, 
preaching  as  he  went.  He  makes  a  somewhat  pain- 
ful allusion,  evidently  to  Strawbridge.  He  says: 
"Monday,  September  2d,  I  visited  the  Bush  Chapel. 
The  people  here  once  left  us  to  follow  another. 
Time  was  when  the  labor  of  their  leader  was  made 
a  blessing  to  them;  but  pride  is  a  busy  sin.  He  is 
no  more.  Upon  the  w^holo,  I  am  inclined  to  think 
that  the  Lord  took  him  away  in  judgment  because 
he  was  in  the  way  to  do  hurt  to  the  cause,  and  that 
he  saved  him  in  mercy,  because  from  his  deathbed 
conversation  he  appears  to  have  hope  in  his  end." 

One  could  wish  this  paragraph  had  not  been  writ- 
ten, and  a  partial  biographer  would  be  glad  to  ex- 
punge it;  but  an  honest  one  cannot.  Mr.  Asbury 
was  perhaps  given  to  judging  harshly  those  who  did 
not  see  things  as  he  saw  them,  and  to  attributing 
to  them  motives  from  which  they  were  often  free. 
Those  w^ho  knew  Strawbridge  best  had  the  highest 
confidence  in  him  and  respect  for  him,  and  his  death 
was,  according  to  Garrettson,  a  very  peaceful  and 


61  Francis  As  bury. 

happj  one.     Happj  is  he  vv^ho  crai  judge  justly  one 
wlio  lie  tiiinks  is  in  grave  error! 

Mr.  Asburv  was  very  busy  visiting  his  old  friends 
and  the  churches,  and,  under  great  weakness  of  body, 
preaching  every  day.  He  made  a  short  visit  to  Phil- 
adelphia, and  came  into  Delaware  again,  and  once 
more  came  into  Baltimore.  While  things  in  Virgin- 
ia w^ere  not  so  bad  as  he  feared,  yet  there  w^as  need 
for  him,  if  he  vvould  stamp  out  this  spirit  of  separa- 
tion, to  go  there  as  speedily  as  possible;  and  so  at 
the  close  of  this  year  he  went  into  Virginia  again. 

In  January,  1782,  Mr.  Asbury  again  entered  Vir- 
ginia and  worked  with  all  ardor  to  suppress  the 
spirit  which  clamored  for  the  ordinances.  His  in- 
domitable will  had  nearly  crushed  it  out,  but  still 
there  was  to  be  another  Conference  of  the  disaf- 
fected at  Manakintown.  He  believed  this  would  be 
the  last  struggle  of  a  yielding  party,  but  the  yield- 
ing party  in  two  years'  time  was  the  victorious  one 
so  far  as  the  main  issue  was  concerned.  He  rode 
into  King  George  county  to  Stedham's.  Stedham 
had  been  a  famous  racer  in  those  days,  but  now  he 
was  the  servant  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  had  given  up 
his  race  horses.  In  October,  1781,  the  surrender  at 
Yorktown  had  taken  place,  and  Mr.  Asbury  was 
now  in  the  midst  of  the  desolations  caused  by  the 
war.  He  says:  ^'We  find  the  smallpox  and  camp 
fever  raging,  and  heard  of  several  poor  creatures, 
white  and  black,  that  had  died  on  the  road.  Ah! 
we  little  know  what  belongs  to  war,  and  with  all  its 
train  of  evils,  churches  converted  into  hospitals  and 
barracks,  homes  pillaged  or  burned."  He  rode  to 
Mr.  Jarratt's,  below  Petersburg,  and  met  him  again. 


Francis  Asbury,  65 

The  inHuence  of  Mr.  Jarratt  over  Mr.  Asburj  was 
manifestly  very  great,  and  it  is  quite  evident  that  Mr. 
Asbury  had  a  hope  that  the  evangelical  party  of 
the  Established  Church  and  the  Methodists  would 
in  some  way  coalesce,  and  that  all  the  Episcopalians 
in  the.  southern  i^rovinces  would  become  Methodists 
while  all  continued  to  be  Episcopalians.  The  na- 
ture of  the  situation,  for  which  the  party  that  Mr. 
Asbury  was  so  sternly  opposing  was  trying  to  pro- 
vide a  remedy,  is  seen  when  he  says  in  the  entry: 
"Mr.  Jarratt  baptized  A.  C.,one  of  our  young  preach- 
ers.'' He  went  on  his  way  from  Jarratt's  through 
Sussex  and  Nansemond,  and  preached  at  Ellis's; 
went  to  Lane's  and  ^labry's;  met  his  good  friend 
Dromgoole,  in  Mecklenburg,  and  passed  again  into 
North  Carolina  and  into  the  upper  counties  of  that 
state,  and  then  recrossed  the  line  into  Virginia.  lie 
says : '-  In  that  country  I  have  to  lodge  half  my  nights 
in  lofts  where  light  may  be  seen  through  a  hundred 
places,  and  it  may  be  the  cold  wind  at  the  same  time 
blowing  through  as  many,  but  through  mercy  I  am 
kept  from  murmuring."  He  was  at  that  time  most 
earnest  in  preaching  on  sanctification ;  and  while  he 
m.akes  no  positive  statement  with  regard  to  his  own 
experience  he  says  many  things  which  would  lead 
one  to  suppose  that  he  claimed,  if  he  did  not  profess, 
a  grace  he  so  constantly  presised  upon  others;  and 
yet  after  saying  one  day,  "My  soul  resteth  in  God 
from  day  to  day  and  from  moment  to  moment,"  a 
week  later  he  says:  "I  have  been  much  tried  in  vari- 
ous ways.  I  feel  myself  greatly  hnmblc-d.  This 
morning  I  poured  out  my  soul  to  God  in  the  granary, 
and  was  refreshed  in  my  spirit." 
5 


6G  Francis  Asduew 

He  was  hard  at  work  trying  to  bring  all  the 
preachers  who  had  been  disaffected  to  harmonize 
with  him  in  his  views  about  the  ordinances,  and  he 
had  succeeded  most  wonderfully  uj)  to  this  time, 
and  now  Philip  Bruce  and  James  O'Kelly  also  Avere 
reconciled  to  him.  Mr.  Jarratt  was  in  full  accord 
with  Asbury  in  all  these  measures,  and  was  ready  to 
cooperate  with  him,  and  attended  the  Conference  at 
Ellis's  meetinghouse  and  preached;  and  as  soon  as  it 
was  over,  Mr.  Asbury  preached  at  Mr.  Jarratt's  barn. 

Asbury,  with  his  determined  will  and  admirable 
management,  had  now  checked,  if  he  had  not  com- 
pletely crushed  out,  the  movement  toward  inde 
pendency  in  Virginia;  but  it  is  evident  from  his 
after  course  that  he  knew  the  matter  was  merely  in 
suspense,  and  that  the  old  plan  was  only  to  be  ad- 
hered to  until  Mr.  Wesley  could  be  heard  from;  and 
after  results  showed  that  even  when  Mr.  Wesley  was 
heard  from  the  preachers  were  not  disposed  to  blind- 
ly follow  his  directions.  The  preachers  at  the  Con- 
ference, however,  all  signed  the  agreement,  both  at 
Ellis's  and  afterwards  at  Baltimore,  agreeing  to 
w^ait,  and  there  was  now  concord. 

Asbury  now  made  a  visit  to  the  western  shore,  to 
Calvert  county,  Maryland.  This  is  the  first  mention 
of  hisvisitation  to  this  part  of  Maryland,  where  Meth- 
odism won  such  conquests  in  after  time.  It  w^as  a 
secluded  peninsula  on  the  western  shore,  inhabited 
'  by  English  people  of  simple  tastes  and  warm  hearts. 
From  the  western  shore  he  went  to  Leesburg,  Ya., 
and  made  another  journey  through  the  northern  part 
of  what  was  then  Virginia  and  what  is  now  West 
Virginia.     He  rode  sixtv  miles  over  incredibly  bad 


F BANC  IS  As  BURY.  67 

roads  in  two  days,  and  preached  in  Sheplierdstowii 
to  about  two  hundred  people.  He  returned  to  Mary- 
laud,  and  then  went  to  Pennsylvania;  then  to  Dela- 
ware and  into  East  Virginia,  and  down  through  the 
war-desolated  sections  of  the  tide-water  country, 
where  he  ended  the  year  1782.  He  was  in  constant 
motion,  and  in  the  first  part  of  1783  he  made  a  very 
extensive  tour  through  the  upper  part  of  North  Car- 
olina. He  passed  through  Halem  and  went  down 
as  far  south  as  Guilford,  then  back  to  Caswell,  and 
then  turned  his  face  toward  the  eastern  part  of 
North  Carolina,  where  he  made  another  visit  to 
Green  Hill,  "at  whose  house  he  preached,"  he  said, 
"to  a  proud  and  prayerless  people;"  and  it  was  while 
on  this  tour  he  heard  the  rumor  of  peace  between 
England  and  America. 

The  de  facto  bishop  had  established  his  lines,  and 
now  extended  them  across  the  mountains  into  Hol- 
ston,  and  all  over  upper  North  Carolina  and  Vir- 
ginia, and  Eastern  Pennsylvania  and  New  Jersey. 
Whenever  it  was  practicable  he  had  made  a  circuit 
and  found  a  preacher  for  it,  until  now  there  were 
thirty-seven  circuits  and  nearly  fourteen  thousand 
members.  He  now  had  his  hands  full,  as  he  made 
a  yearly  visitation  to  all  parts  of  the  work.  His  cir- 
cuit began  at  New  York,  and  took  in  New  Jersey, 
the  eastern  parts  of  Pennsylvania,  Delaware,  the 
eastern  shore  of  Virginia  and  Maryland,  and  all  of 
the  then  settled  parts  of  Virginia,  and  along  the 
northern  part  of  North  Carolina.  He  was  still  try- 
ing to  keep  on  good  terms  with  the  Episcopal  clergy, 
and  Mr.  Jarratt,  Dr.  McGfiw,and  Mr.  Pettigrew  were 
his  special  friends.     P>ut  his  hope  that  by  making 


G8  Francis  As  bury. 

concessions  he  might  secure  something  of  the  same 
nature  from  the  Established  Church  seems  to  have 
been  a  baseless  one.  After  the  Conference  he  went 
as  usual  to  the  western  border,  preaching  in  Shep- 
herdstown  and  Winchester,  and  during  the  hot 
weather  of  early  August  went  into  Pennsylvania. 
Here  he  heard  of  the  sad  death  of  Isaac  Rollins, 
whom  he  had  ten  years  before  introduced  into  the 
ministry  v>^hich  Rollins  had  so  shamefully  dis- 
graced. There  is  perhaps  no  comfort  to  us  in  these 
latter  days  in  finding  out  that  the  early  preachers 
were  not  all  saints,  and  learning  that  of  the  four 
earliest  American  preachers  Abram  Whitworth  and 
Isaac  Rollins  became  apostates,  and^  alas!  that  the 
gifted  and  zealous  Joseph  Cromwell,  having  done 
most  excellent  work,  fell  into  grievous  drunkenness 
and  died  and  made  no  sign.  The  demands  which 
Asbury  made  upon  those  who  were  associated  with 
him  were  perhaps  sometimes  too  great  for  weak  men, 
and  perhaps  he  was  sometimes  mistaken  in  the  mor- 
al stamina  of  those  whose  zeal  was  so  ardent.  He 
visited  Philadelphia,  where  after  the  war  all  things 
were  prosperous  but  religion,  and  came  again  to 
New  York.  He  had  persuaded  John  Dickins  to  leave 
North  Carolina,  and  take  charge  of  the  church  in 
New  York,  which  came  out  of  the  Revolution  even 
stronger  than  when  it  went  into  it.  He  now  vis^ 
ited  him,  and  preached  earnestly  to  the  people,  and 
went  again  into  the  eastern  shore  of  Maryland,  and 
into  Virginia  and  along  the  old  route  he  had  trav- 
eled the  year  before  and  traveled  so  often  after- 
wards. He  went  into  North  Carolina,  where  he  re- 
ceived the  Lord's  Supper  from  Mr.  Pettigrew,  and 


Francis  As  bury.  69 

received  a  letter  from  Mr.  Wesley  appointing  liim 
to  a  work  he  had  been  doing  for  four  years.  Again 
he  pressed  through  the  middle  counties  of  Xorth  Car- 
olina, and  was  sadly  disappointed  because  he  could 
not  reach  the  Yadkin  Circuit  once  more;  but  an  in- 
llamed  foot  kept  him  from  it,  and  it  v/as  by  the  aid 
of  a  stick  that  he  could  limi)  to  the  barn  and  the  sta- 
ble. The  Tar  River  Circuit,  in  Granville  and  War- 
ren, was  very  populous  and  was  then  in  a  prosperous 
state.  He  found  the  people  numerous;  the  congre- 
gations in  all  the  southern  section  of  Virginia  and 
the  northern  counties  of  North  Carolina  largel}^  at- 
tended. He  attended  the  two  Conferences,  one  at 
Ellis's  and  one  at  Baltimore,  and  found  that  poor, 
half  -  crazy  William  Glendenniug  v»'as  beginning  a 
fight  against  him,  w  hich  he  kept  up  for  years. 

The  Conference  of  1784  over,  he  turned  his  face 
again  toward  the  newly-settled  Valley  of  Virginia 
and  the  borders  of  northw^estern  Virginia,  where 
he  says  they  were  three  thick  on  the  floor.  He  went 
into  western  Pennsylvania,  and  in  July  was  in  Phil- 
adelphia. He  w^ent  as  far  north  as  New  York,  and 
met  his  old  friend  William  Lupton.  This  portly 
merchant,  who  had  given  him  some  trouble,  was 
still  alive,  and  despite  the  war  the  society  was  still 
prosperous.  He  was  in  New  York  in  August,  and 
possibly  learned  something  of  what  was  designed 
in  England  by  Mr.  Wesley,  but  got  only  an  inkling. 
He  came  southward,  preaching  as  he  came,  and  after 
passing  through  the  eastern  shore  of  Virginia  he 
made  a  circuit  and -reached  Barratt's  Chapel  in 
Maryland,  where  he  met  Dr.  Coke,  in  November, 
1784;  and  his  next  tour  was  as  Bishop  Asbury. 


70  Francis  As  bury. 

Stevens  gives  a  letter  from  him  to  Shadford  wliicii 
throws  some  light  on  these  times:* 

'VLong  has  been  thy  absence,"  he  sajs,  "and  many, 
many  have  been  my  thoughts  about  thee,  and  my  tri- 
als and  consolations  in  loving  and  gaining  friends. 
We  have  about  fourteen  thousand  members,  and  be- 
tween seventy  and  eighty  traveling  preachers,  and 
between  thirty  and  forty  circuits.  Four  clerg}  men 
have  behaved  themselves  friendly  in  attending  quar- 
terly meetings,  and  recommending  us  by  word  and 
letter.  They  are  Mr.  Jarratt  in  Virginia,  as  you 
know;  Mr.  Pettigrew,  North  Carolina;  Dr.  McGaw, 
Philadelphia;  and  Mr.  Ogden,  of  East  Jersey.  You 
have  heard  of  the  divisions  about  that  improper 
question  proposed  at  Deer  Creek  Conference:  'What 
shall  be  done  about  the  ordinances?'  You  know  we 
stood  foot  by  foot  to  oppose  it.  I  cannot  tell  you 
what  I  suffered  in  this  affair.  How^ever,  God  has 
brought  good  out  of  evil,  and  it  has  so  cured  them 
that  I  think  there  will  never  be  anything  formidable 
in  that  way  again.  I  hope  if  any  preachers  are  to 
come  over  here  at  any  future  day,  you  will  be  one. 
I  admire  the  simplicity  of  our  preachers.  I  do  not 
think  there  has  appeared  another  such  company  of 
young,  devoted  men.  The  gospel  has  taken  a  uni- 
versal spread.  You  have  heard  what  great  things 
God  has  done  in  the  Peninsula  since  about  these 
eighteen  months  that  I  thought  it  most  prudent  to 
stay  in  Delaware,  and  an  exceeding  great  w^ork  we 
have  had  there,  and  on  the  eastern  shore  of  Mary- 
land, so  that  my  labors  were  not  in  vain.  Since  1 
have  been  ranging  through  Virginia  toward  the  Al- 
*  Stevens's  History  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church. 


Francis  As  bury.  71 

leghany  and  Maryland,  Pennsylvania  and  East  and 
West  Jerseys  and  the  Peninsula,  I  enjoy  more  liealtli 
than  I  have  for  twenty  years  back.  I  travel  four 
thousand  miles  in  a  year,  all  weathers,  among  rich 
and  poor,  Dutch  and  English.  O,  my  dear  Shad- 
ford,  it  would  take  a  month  to  write  out  and  speak 
what  I  want  you  to  know.  The  most  momentous 
is  my  constant  communion  with  God  as  my  God." 

He  wrote  to  Wesley  near  the  same  time,  and  said 
of  North  Carolina:  ''The  present  preachers  suffer 
much,  being  often  obliged  to  dwell  in  dirty  cabins, 
to  sleep  in  poor  beds.  My  soul  is  daily  fed,  and  I 
have  abundant  sweetness  in  God.  I  see  the  neces- 
sity of  preaching  a  full  and  present  salvation  from 
all  sin." 


CHAPTER  X. 

118Jl^, 

Dr.  Coke— Mr.  Wesley's  Will— Mr.  Asbmy  Eefuses  to  be  Or- 
dained Till  a  Conference  is  Called — The  Conference  Meets — 
Mr.  Asbary  and  Dr.  Coke  Elected  Bishops  and  Called  Super- 
intendents. 

WHEN  Mr.  Asburj  rode  up  to  Barratt's  Chapel 
on  Sunday  morning,  November  14,  1784,  he 
found  in  this  chapel  in  the  forest  a  great  crowd  of 
people  assembled.  When  he  entered  the  church  he 
saw  in  the  pulpit  a  clergyman  in  his  gown.  He  was 
a  small  man  with  feminine  features,  long  hair,  and 
a  hooked  nose.  He  had  never  seen  him  before, 
but  he  knew  he  was  Thomas  Coke^  LL.D.,  Mr.  Wes- 
ley's favorite  lieutenant.  The  thin-visaged  Thomas 
Yasey  and  the  doctor  he  had  not  known,  but  the  se- 
rene-looking Whatcoat,  w^ho  w^as  with  them,  he  had 
known  before  in  England.  Dr.  Coke  came  from  the 
pulpit  as  the  sunburned,  sturdy  traveler  came  in 
whom  he  rightly  conjectured  to  be  the  man  he  had 
come  to  find,  and  embraced  him  warmly.  The  serv- 
ice was  concluded  with  the  communion,  and  to 
Mr.  Asbury's  astonishment  his  old  friend  What- 
coat assisted  the  clergyman  in  handing  around 
the  elements.  Mr.  Asbury  was  not  taken  entire- 
ly by  surprise,  and  the  meeting  was  not  acciden- 
tal. When  he  was  in  New  York  a  short  time  be- 
fore he  had  learned  from  John  Dickins  something  of 
what  was  designed;  but  now  in  an  interview  with 
(72) 


FliANCIS  AsBUIiY.  73 

Dr.  Coke  the  whole  phm  of  Mr.  Wesley  was* opened 
before  him. 

I  have  with  design  confined  myself  as  closely  as 
I  could  to  my  ofii.ce  as  Mr.  Asbury's  biographer,  and 
have  not  allowed  the  temptation  to  turn  to  other 
closely  connected  subjects  to  influence  me;  and  I 
shall  not  do  so  now,  but  will  leave  to  those  who  write 
the  histories  of  3iethodismj  or  who  feel  it  incumbent 
on  them  to  defend  Mr.  Wesley's  position,  and  to  put 
his  theory  of  Church  government  in  its  true  place, 
to  do  so.  I  am  simply  to  give  Mr.  Asbury's  part  in 
the  transaction.  When  they  had  now  gone  to  the 
home  of  their  host,  Dr.  Coke  laid  before  Mr.  Asbury 
the  matter  in  hand.  The  facts  brought  out  seem 
to  be  that  Mr.  Wesley  had  decided  that  he  had  a 
right  to  ordain  not  only  deacons  and  elders,  but.su- 
l^erintendents  or  bishops  for  his  societies;  that  he 
had  selected  Dr.  Coke  to  be  one  of  the  superintend- 
ents of  the  American  societies,  and  ordained  him  to 
the  office;  that  he  had  selected  Francis  Asbury  to  be 
joint  superintendent  with  Dr.Coke,and  Dr. Coke  had 
been  commissioned  to  ordain  him  deacon,  elder,  and 
superintendent;  and  that  he  had  sent  Ki chard  What- 
coat  and  Thomas  Vasey  to  act  as  elders  and  subordi- 
nate assistants  to  Mr.  Asbury. 

The  doctor  said  he  w^as  now  ready  to  go  forward 
and  carry  out  Mr.  Wesley's  orders,  and  he  presented 
to  Mr.  Asbury  Mr.  Wesley's  letter,  with  w^hich  letter 
all  the  students  of  Methodist  history  are  familiar. 
Mr.  Wesley  gives  in  it  the  reason  why  he  exercised 
a  right  wiiich  he  believed  was  legitimately  his,  and 
why  he  did  in  America  what  he  had  not  done  in 
England. 


74  Francis  As  bury. 

In  Dr.  Tigert's  Constitutional  History  of  Ameri- 
can Ei)iscopal  Methodism,  in  Stevens's  History  of 
the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  in  Bangs,  in  Mc- 
Tyeire,  the  whole  story  of  this  affair  is  given,  and 
there  is  an  able  defense  of  the  propriety  of  Mr.  Wes- 
ley's course,  but  with  that  we  have  little  to  do  in  this 
biography. 

Mr.  Asburj^  says  when  he  heard  why  the^^  had  come 
to  America  he  was  shocked;  and  well  he  might  have 
been,  for  a  greater  change  of  position  was  rarely 
demanded  of  anyone  than  that  he  was  required  to 
make.  I  think  it  is  certain  that  the  Church  of  En- 
gland did  not  have  in  it  a  more  loyal  member  than 
Mr.  Asbury  was.  He  was  an  Episcopalian  of  the 
Wesleyan  type,  and  not  Charles  Wesley  himself  vras 
more  attached  to  the  Establishment  than  he  w^as. 
With  sacramentarianism,  or  high-churchism,  he  had 
no  sympathy,  but  he  loved  the  Church  of  Burnet 
and  Tillotson.  He  had  no  liking  for  Presbyterians 
or  Congregationalists.  He  believed  there  were  three 
orders — bishops,  elders,  and  deacons;  and  while  he 
was  as  evangelical  in  his  theology  as  Bunyan  or 
Flavel,  he  was,  as  far  as  his  views  of  Church  govern- 
ment were  concerned,  thoroughly  an  Episcopalian. 
When  his  young  brethren  in  Virginia  had  broken 
away  from  the  old  traditions  and  were  determined 
to  exercise  the  right  to  administer  the  sacraments, 
almost  single-handed  he  bad  withstood  them  and 
won  the  field;  and  now  he  was  startled  by  a  propo- 
sition that  he  who  would  not  even  administer  the 
sacrament  of  baptism,  because  he  was  not  ordained 
by  a  bishop,  should  consent  to  take  ordination  as  a 
bishop.     He  was  not  at  all  misled  by  the  use  of  what 


Francis  As  bury.  75 

seemed  to  be  the  less  offensive  term  of  superintend- 
ent, instead  of  bishop.  He  knew  well  that  he  was 
to  do  in  America  all  that  a  bishop  did  in  England; 
and  while  he  might  not  have  the  name,  he  certainl3^ 
was  to  have  the  office,  of  a  bishop. 

Mr.  Asbury  had  now  the  whole  plan  laid  before 
him.  A  Church  was  to  be  organized,  orders  were  to 
be  given,  sacraments  were  to  be  administered,  a  lit- 
urgy was  to  be  used,  and  articles  of  faith  were  to  be 
accepted.  It  was  only  necessary  for  him  to  say  aye, 
and  Dr.  Coke  would  lay  his  hands  upon  him.  Rich- 
ard Whatcoat  and  Thomas  Vasey  would  remain 
with  him  as  elders,  and  he  would  continue  to  do  the 
work  he  had  been  doing,  and  add  to  it  the  office  of 
ordaining.  But  he  did  not  say  aye.  He  was  willing 
to  do  all  asked  of  him,  provided  his  brethren  said  so, 
and  nothing  unless  they  did  say  so;  and  more  than 
this,  with  his  consent  Dr.  Coke  could  not  exercise 
his  Wesley-conferred  function  unless  they  said  so, 
and  a  Conference  must  be  called. 

Mr.  Wesley  had  not  designed  this.  He  was  not 
accustomed  to  consult  his  helpers  They  were  to 
keep  his  rules,  not  to  mend  them ;  but  there  was  no 
time  to  consult  Mr.  Wesley,  and  Dr.  Coke  yielded, 
and  that  saintly  young  man,  Freeborn  Garrettson, 
who  had  done  such  wonderful  work  in  Delaware, 
was  sent  like  an  arrow  from  a  bow  through  Virginia 
to  call  the  preachers  to  meet  in  Baltimore  on  Christ- 
mas day  for  consultation. 

Mr.  Asbury  gave  up  his  traveling  companion. 
Black  Harry,  to  Dr.  Coke;  and  while  Dr.  Coke  went 
one  way  he  went-  another,  and  a  week  before  the 
time  for  the  preachers  to  report  he  and  Dr.  Coke 


76  Francis  Asbury. 

and  sundry  others  met  at  Perry  Hall.  Here  there 
was  a  free  consultation,  and  on  Friday,  the  24th  day 
of  December,  the  preachers  who  could  be  gathered 
together  met  in  Lovely  Lane  meetinghouse  in  Bal- 
timore, in  which  the  good  stewards  had  had  backs 
put  to  the  benches  and  placed  a  stove.  The  Con- 
ference was  tenacious  of  its  rights,  but  not  unwilling 
to  regard,  as  far  as  possible,  all  Mr.  Wesley's  wishes. 
They  were  not  willing  to  accept  bishops  or  liturgies 
or  declarations  of  faith  at  his  dictation,  but  were 
willing  to  adopt  his  suggestions;  and  so  they  settled 
all  things  as  he  wished  by  a  majority  vote,  and  unan- 
imously elected  Mr.  Asbury  and  Dr.  Coke  to  the  su- 
perintendency,  accepted  the  service-book  provided, 
and  did  sundry  other  things  at  Dr.  Coke's  suggestion. 
William  Philip  Otterbein,of  whom  we  have  had  men- 
tion, a  German-Reformed  preacher,  joined  with  Dr. 
Coke,  Mr.  Whatcoat,  and  Mr.  Vasey,  and  Francis  As- 
bury was  set  apart  first  as  deacon,  then  as  elder,  and 
then  as  superintendent, and  for  two  years  was  Mr.  Su- 
perintendent Asbury.  For  two  years  he  was  known 
by  the  people  as  Bishop  Asbury,  and  appeared  in  the 
minutes  as  superintendent;  and  then  the  silly  trib- 
ute to  high-church  prejudice  was  paid  no  longer, 
and  Superintendent  Asbury  became  Bishop  Asbury 
in  name  as  he  was  in  fact. 

Note. — It  has  been  impossible  to  verify  all  the  statements 
made  in  this  important  chapter  by  referring  to  the  section  of 
the  journal,  page  and  paragraph ;  but  the  facts  as  I  have  given 
them  are  so  presented  at  length  in  the  journal  of  1784,  which 
can  he  consulted. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

Mr.  Asbury's  Views  on  Episcopacy. 

THIS  is  xjerliaps  the  proper  place  to  give  Mr. 
Asbury's  views  concerning  the  episcopal  office 
with  which  he  had  been  invested.  In  this  chap- 
ter I  shall  aim  rather  to  state  his  views  than  to  de- 
fend them,  and  in  doing  this  I  shall  make  no  effort 
to  fit  them  into  any  theory  of  Church  government 
whatsoever. 

Mr.  Wesley  said  a  bishop  and  an  elder  w^ere  the 
same  order.  So  said  Dr.  Coke,  but  Mr.  Asbury  held 
to  the  three  orders  as  decidedly  as  the  judicious 
Hooker.  He  writes  explicitly  on  this  subject  in  his 
journal  after  he  had  been  a  bishop  for  some  years. 
In  April,  1801,  he  writes:  "I  recollect  having  read 
some  years  since  Ostervald's  Christian  Theology,and 
wishing  to  transcribe  a  few  sentences,  I  met  v>ith 
it  and  extracted  from  Chapter  II.,  page  317,  what 
follows:  ^Yet  it  cannot  be  denied  that  in  the  prim- 
itive Church  there  was  alvv^ays  a  president  w^ho  pre- 
sided over  others  who  Vv^ere  in  a  state  of  equality 
with  himself.  This  is  clearly  proved  by  the  cata- 
logue of  bishops  to  be  found  in  Eusebius  and  others. 
In  them  we  may  see  the  names  of  the  bishops  be- 
longing to  the  principal  Churches,  many  of  whom 
were  ordained  w^hile  the  apostles,  especially  John, 
were  still  living.'  So  far  Mr.  Ostervald  was,  I  pre- 
sume, a  Presbvterian.     In  Cave's  Life  of  the  Fa- 

(77) 


78  Francis  As  bury, 

thers  and  in  the  writings  of  the  ancients  it  will  ap- 
pear that  the  churches  of  Alexandria  and  ekewhere 
had  large  congregations  of  many  elders,  that  the 
apostles  might  appoint  or  ordain  bishops.  Mr.  Os- 
tervald,  who  it  appears  is  a  candid  and  well  -  in 
formed  man,  has  gone  as  far  as  could  be  exi)ected 
from  a  Presbyterian.  For  myself  I  see  but  a  hair's 
breadth  difference  between  the  sentiments  of  the 
learned  author  of  the  Christian  Theology  and  the 
practice  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church.  There 
is  not,  nor  indeed  to  my  mind  can  there  be,  a  perfect 
equality  between  a  constant  president  and  those 
over  whom  he  always  presides." 

Bishop  Asbury  does  not  here  enter  into  any  dis- 
cussion as  to  the  manner  in  which  bishops  are  made, 
but  concerns  himself  with  the  position  they  occupy. 
The  question  which  interested  him  was  not  how 
came  he  a  bishop,  but,  as  he  was  one,  w^hat  were  his 
prerogatives;  but  a  little  later  he  says:  "I  will  tell 
the  world  what  I  rest  my  authority  on :  First,  divine 
authority;  second,  seniority  in  America;  third,  the 
election  of  the  General  Conference;  fourth,  my  ordi- 
nation by  Thomas  Coke,  William  Philip  Otterbein 
(German  Presbyterian  minister),  Richard  Whatcoat, 
and  Thomas  Vasey;  fifth,  because  the  signs  of  an 
apostle  have  been  seen  in  me."  He  was  no  lord  over 
the  heritage.  He  was  not  self-appointed,  nor  did 
he,  as  he  once  had  done,  exercise  rule  because  Mr. 
Wesley  had  chosen  him  to  do  so.  He  was  the  serv- 
ant of  his  brethren,  but  the  office  they  conferred  on 
him  required  him  to  command,  and  the  authority 
they  gave  him  was  almost  absolute,  limited  only  by 
the  conscience  of  the  chosen  commander.     No  pope 


Francis  Asbuuf.  79 

ever  claimed  a  more  unlimited  i)ower  than  BishoiJ 
Asburj  claimed,  but  it  was  conferred  for  ijublic 
good,  and  could  have  been  vvithheld.  As  the  black 
pope,  the  head  of  the  Jesuits,  has  but  to  speak  and 
he  is  obej'ed,  so  Asbury  expected  those  who  had 
made  him  commanding  general  to  heed  his  orders. 
He  claimed  no  superiority^  save  that  which  was  of 
office,  and  an  office  given,  and  he  would  gladly  have 
resigned  it  at  any  time  if  it  had  been  possible.  While 
he  was  bishop  he  realized  the  responsibilit}^  of  his 
position  and  tried  to  meet  it.  The  Asburyan  episco- 
pacy, as  it  is  sometimes  called,  is  more  fully  set 
forth  in  his  letter  to  Bishop  McKendree,  written  at 
a  late  period  of  his  life,  but  is  substantially  the  one 
I  have  given.  The  letter  is  too  long  to  be  inserted 
here.  It  was  dictated  to  Thomas  Mason,  and  was 
written  in  1813.  It  is  somewhat  rambling  and  in- 
coherent, and  evidences  the  decay  of  his  mental  pow- 
ers. The  reader  can  find  it  in  full  in  Paine's  Life  of 
McKendree,  Vol.  I.,  p.  310.  It  is  made  up  largely  of 
extracts  from  Haweis's  Church  Historj'.  In  it  he 
states  the  position  which  he  held.  There  were  three 
orders — the  bishop,  the  eider,  the  deacon.  The  bish- 
op was  the  successor  of  the  apostles.  The  apostolic 
order  of  things,  which  was  that  of  a  traveling  super- 
intendency,  was  lost  in  the  first  century.  Mr.  Wes- 
ley ordained  Dr.  Coke,  and  Dr.  Coke  ordained  him. 
Mr.  Wesley  was  ordained  by  two  bishops,  deacon 
and  elder,  and  had  an  apostolic  right  to  ordain  also. 
The  apostolic  order  was  lost  in  fifty  years  after  the 
death  of  the  apostles,  and  we  must  restore  it.  The 
regular  order  of  succession  was  in  John  Wesley, 
Thomas  Coke,  Francis  Asbury,  Richard  What  coat, 


80  •      Francis  As  bury. 

and  William  McKendree.  It  is  needless  to  follow 
this  rambling  letter  to  its  close.  He  believed  that 
he  was  a  legitimate  successor  of  the  apostles,  and 
his  utterances  rather  indicate  that  he  thought  the 
Methodist  bishop  alone  was  that  successor.  But  he 
held  as  decidedly  to  the  opinion  that  he  was  only 
a  bishop  or  superintendent  of  his  brethren,  because 
they,  by  their  selection  of  him,  conferred  that  office 
on  him.     These  are  his  views. 

While  he  felt  as  fully  as  any  pope  ever  did  that  he 
Vvas  called  of  God  to  the  office  of  bishop,  he  recog- 
nized the  fact  that  he  had  been  placed  in  this  posi- 
tion by  the  suffrages  of  his  brethren.  ''For  myself," 
he  says,  "I  pity  those  who  cannot  distinguish  be- 
tvv^een  a  pope  of  Eome  and  an  old  worn  man  of  sixty 
years  who  has  the  povrer  given  him  of  riding  five 
thousand  miles  a  year,  at  a  salary  of  eighty  dollars, 
through  summer's  heat  and  winter's  cold;  traveling 
in  all  weathers,  preaching  in  all  places;  his  best 
covering  from  rain  often  but  a  blanket;  the  surest 
sharpener  of  his  wit  hunger,  from  fasts  voluntar}^ 
and  involuntary;  his  best  fare  for  six  months  of  the 
twelve  coarse  kindness;  and  his  reward  from  too 
many  suspicion,  envy,  and  murmurings  all  around. 
He  says  he  felt  the  great  responsibility  of  his  office, 
and  would  have  been  glad  to  have  surrendered  it  if 
he  could  have  done  so.  He  was  always  very  sensi- 
tive, and  the  intimation  that  he  was  partial  to  men 
and  sections  in  the  discharge  of  his  office  gave  him 
great  pain.  The  careful  itinerary  his  journal  gives 
shows  how  he  labored  to  meet  the  demand  for  the 
oversight  of  every  section  of  the  land. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Thomas  Coke — The  Welsh  Gentleman — In  Oxford — Coke's  Cu- 
racy— His  Conversion — Mr.  Wesley's  Favor — His  Labors — 
His  Death. 

THE  President  of  the  Christmas  Conference 
of  1784  was  Thomas  Coke,  LL.D.  He  was 
a  Welshman  by  birth,  and  was  born  thirt^^-seven 
years  before  this  time,  the  only  child  of  a  family  of 
wealth  and  position  in  the  province  from  which  he 
came.  He  began  his  university  studies  in  Oxford 
in  his  seventeenth  year.  John  Wesley  had  founded 
his  first  Methodist  society  in  London,  ten  3^ears  be- 
fore Coke's  birth,  and  Methodism  was  a  strong  and 
healthy  plant  when  he  entered  on  his  Oxford  life. 
He  was  a  handsome  boy,  and,  living  in  ease  and 
affluence,  he  became  very  frivolous  and  fond  of 
the  ordinary  amusements  of  those  days,  especially 
of  dancing.  Oxford  was  the  university  to  which 
wealthy  and  titled  Tories  sent  their  sons;  and  the 
pure  though  irreligious  young  Welshman  found  him- 
self in  a  hotbed  of  vice  and,  of  course,  of  infidelity. 
He  soon  became  infected  with  the  virus  of  unbelief, 
and,  boy  as  he  was,  gave  up  the  faith.  Although  he 
was  the  boon  companion  of  the  dissipated,  he  did 
not  fall  into  their  grosser  vices;  and  while  he  in- 
dulged in  wine,  he  never  ran  into  great  excess,  and 
though  fond  of  cards,  he  did  not  game  deeply.  He 
was  very  unhappy  in  the  midst  of  this  gayety.  At 
this  time  he  was  visited  by  a  clergyman  from  his 
6  (81) 


82  Francis  Asbuby. 

native  province.  He  heard  Mm  preach,  and  was 
impressed.  When  he  spoke  to  the  clergyman  of  his 
sermon,  however,  he  was  shocked  to  hear  from  his 
lips  an  avowal  of  entire  disbelief  in  the  Christianity 
he  was  defending.  This  course  so  disgusted  the 
high-toned  young  Welshman  that  he  began  to  ex- 
amine the  evidences  of  the  Christian  religion,  and  so 
became  theoretically  a  Christian.  In  studying  the 
subject  of  regeneration  he  became  satisfied  that  he 
had  not  received  the  new  nature.  He  resolved  to 
seek  it,  and  in  the  meantime  gave  himself  with  great 
assiduity  to  his  studies,  and  improved  rapidly.  He 
left  Oxford  before  he  w^as  twenty-one,  and  w^as  soon 
elevated  to  an  important  position  in  his  borough. 
He  resolved  to  enter  into  holy  orders,  and,  naturally 
ambitious,  he  expected  a  high  place.  He  took  or 
ders,  and,  seeking  for  the  worldly  rewards  of  his  of- 
fice, he  lost  sight  of  his  religious  needs;  after  being 
disappointed  in  his  expectations  of  rapid  promo- 
tion, he  took  a  curacy  in  the  charming  county  of 
Somersetshire,  in  the  center  of  England.  Here  he 
preached  with  great  earnestness;  and  without  com- 
punction, when  he  found  a  better  sermon  than  his 
own,  following  Sir  Roger's  advice,  he  used  the  one 
he  found;  but  now  he  became  convicted  under  his 
own  preaching,  and  began  to  Dreach  with  real  ear- 
nestness the  great  necessity  of  the  new  birth.  His 
church  became  crow^ded,  and  he  built  a  gallery  at 
his  own  expense.  He  was  at  once  accused  of  being 
a  Methodist,  which  was  the  one  term  of  odium  given 
to  anyone  who  preached  as  he  did. 

Thomas  Maxfield,  Mr.  Wesley's  first  lay  preacher, 
who  left  him  in  the  great  excitement  on  the  subject 
of  Perfection  in  London,  in  1763,  was  now  an  or- 


Francis  As  bury.  83 

dained  clergyman.  He  was  not  far  from  Dr.  Coke, 
and  he  sought  him  out.  His  conversation  aroused 
Coke  still  more,  and  that  stirring  book,  A  Heine's 
Alarm,  fairly  awakened  him.  He  was  yet  unde- 
cided on  the  Calvinistic  question,  which  was  stirring 
the  evangelical  world.  A  clergyman  handed  him  Mr. 
Fletcher's  Checks.  This  settled  his  doubts  on  this 
question.  An  interview  with  a  friendly  clergyman 
among  the  dissenters  brought  him  on  his  way;  but 
he  was  led  to  clear  and  correct  views  by  a  pious  rus- 
tic and  a  class  leader.  He  had  now  found  the  way 
of  life  intellectually,  and  he  began  to  preach  as  he 
had  never  done  before,  and  work  with  an  ardor 
which  told  how  deeply  he  was  in  earnest  for  the 
souls  of  his  people.  A  few  days  after  the  interview 
with  the  laborer,  peace  came  to  his  soul.  He  told 
others  of  it.  He  laid  aside  his  manuscript  and 
preached  with  divine  unction.  Few  things  give 
formalists  of  any  name  greater  offense  than  pro- 
fessions of  a  deeper  experience  than  they  know,  and 
few  things  were  more  unendurable  in  such  a  parish 
as  the  average  one  in  England  then  was  than  re- 
ligion in  the  curate.  They  could  tolerate  a  little 
gaming,  a  little  too  much  wine,  and  all  such  minor 
matters;  but  for  him  to  have  religion,  and  to  urge  it 
upon  others,  was  another  thing,  and  was  unpardon- 
able: and  so  Dr.  Coke  was  dismissed  from  the  curacy, 
and  the  bells  rang  him  out  of  the  parish. 

He  was  educated,  wealthy,  and  not  yet  thirty 
years  old,  a  stanch  churchman  and  an  earnest 
Christian;  he  heard  that  Mr.  Wesley  was  to  be  in 
twenty  miles  of  him,  and  he  rode  to  meet  him.  Mr. 
Wesley  was  now  an  old  man  (seventy-four  years  old), 
and  his  heart  warmed  toward  this  brave  young  cler- 


84  Francis  As  bury. 

gyman.  He  invited  him  to  meet  the  preachers  at 
Bristol,  and  from  this  time  to  his  death  Thomas 
Coke  was  Mr.  Wesley's  bosom  friend.  His  expul- 
sion from  his  parish  took  place  after  the  Methodist 
societies  had  outlived  their  days  of  weakness  and 
persecution;  and  when  Dr.  Coke  appeared  in  Lon- 
don, crowds  came  to  hear  him.  Following  Mr.  Wes- 
ley's example,  he  preached  in  the  fields,  and  great 
success  followed  his  ministry  everywhere. 

Mr.  Wesley  had  long  needed  an  assistant  in  his 
episcopal  work.  His  brother  Charles  had  left  him  to 
bear  the  burden  alone.  Mr.  Fletcher,  who  he  had 
hoped  would  succeed  him,  was  unwilling  to  take  the 
position.  Here  Mr.  Wesley  thought  was  the  man 
he  had  been  seeking  and  praying  for.  So  he  re- 
ceived the  zealous  young  doctor,  and  gave  him  the 
warmest  affection  and  confidence;  and  so  Coke  en- 
tered into  the  connection.  He  came  to  America,  as 
we  have  seen,  and  entered  earnestly  into  the  work 
before  him.  He  found  simple-hearted  Francis  As- 
bury  trying  to  build  up  a  high  school  for  Methodist 
l)oys  at  Abingdon,  Maryland.  He  decided  at  once 
on  a  college  to  be  called  Cokesbury,  after  himself 
and  Asbury.  The  scheme  was  about  as  sensible  as 
Whitefield's  college  in  Savannah ;  but  at  it  he  went 
with  all  zeal.  He  made  all  the  plans;  he  set  to  work 
to  raise  the  funds;  raised  enough  to  start  the  affair, 
and  then  left  poor  Asbury  to  do  the  rest,  and  Avent 
back  to  England.  The  rules  of  the  school  were 
drawn  up  by  him,  and  were  about  as  practicable  as 
the  constitution  John  Locke  gave  to  the  South  Caro- 
lina colony,  or  the  measures  of  James  Oglethorpe  in 
Georgia's  early  settlement.  Happily  and  merciful- 
Iv,  the  schoolhouse  was  burned  down,  and  Cokes 


F HAN  CIS  As  BURY,  85 

biirj,  Maryland,  with  its  impracticable  rules,  passed 
away  from  the  earth,  much  to  Mr.  Asbury's  relief. 

Coke  had  been  about  a  month  in  America  when 
he  began  a  crusade  against  slavery.  The  preachers 
were  all  agreed  about  the  matter.  It  was  an  evil  to 
be  put  down.  Asbury  had  been  doing  his  best  to 
put  it  down,  and  so  had  the  preachers;  but  now  the 
little  doctor  was  going  to  beard  the  lion  in  his  den. 
He  would  have  an  act  passed  at  Baltimore,  and  put 
it  into  effect  on  his  first  tour,  which  would  extirpate 
the  crying  evil;  and  much  good  he  did,  to  be  sure. 
He  was  going  to  kill  or  to  cure;  but  the  preachers 
would  not  let  him  kill,  and  certain  it  is  he  did  not 
cure. 

The  good  doctor  was  now  a  bishop,  and  had  as 
sincere  a  desire  to  do  the  Church  good  service  as  ever 
man  had.  He  had  spoken  out  in  no  uncertain  tones 
at  Baltimore,  and  was  imprudent  enough  to  say 
things  which,  while  they  pleased  the  Methodists  and 
the  Republicans  in  America,  were  not  at  all  pleas- 
ant to  Church  people  and  the  Tories  of  England,  sore 
enough  over  the  loss  of  the  colonies.  He  now  began 
his  tour  through  Virginia.  The  warm-hearted  peo- 
ple received  him  as  an  angel ;  but  before  he  had  been 
among  them  many  weeks  he  made  the  fiercest  as- 
sault against  slavery,  and  aroused  no  small  amount 
of  displeasure.  His  biographer  thinks  that  he  was 
in  danger  of  bodily  harm,  and  just  escaped — well, 
he  escaped  all  bad  treatment,  and  thus  had  better 
fare  than  he  had  in  his  English  parish.  But  the 
Virginians  were  glad  to  see  him  go  back  to  England. 
He  was  a  brave,  unselfish  man,  and  like  a  hero 
faced  the  many  dangers  of  the  American  traveler  in 
fording  and  swimming  streams,  and  sometimes  made 


86  Francis  As  bury. 

very  narrow  escapes  in  this  way.  The  Methodist 
preachers  in  England  were  in  no  very  good  humor 
with  him;  and  even  Mr.  AVesley,  who  had  a  very 
dim  vision  when  the  faults  of  his  favorites  were  to 
be  searched  for,  received  him  very  coldly  on  his  re- 
turn to  England,  and  his  name  was  left  off  the  min- 
utes for  the  year.  He  now  began  his  great  missiona- 
ry work  by  securing  some  missionaries  for  Nova  Sco- 
tia. He  took  his  collections  for  these  missionaries, 
and  even  then  opened  a  correspondence  with  refer- 
ence to  a  mission  in  Hindoostan;  and  this  desire  then 
expressed,  to  reach  India  v»'ith  the  gospel,  lingered 
with  him  to  the  last.  This  was  four  years  before 
Carey.  He  now  secured  three  missionaries  for  Nova 
Scotia, and  set  sail  from  England;  but  there  was  nev- 
er smooth  sailing  for  the  good  doctor,  and  there  was 
a  stormy  voyage  this  time.  When  a  fierce  storm 
came  on  and  continued,  the  superstitious  sailors, 
somewhat  angered  already,  were  about  to  throve 
him  overboard  as  a  Jonah,  and  he  barely  escaped. 
At  last  they  landed  in  the  West  Indies,  instead  of 
Nova  Scotia. 

Methodism  had  been  introduced  into  these  islands 
by  a  slave  ov/ner,  Mr.  Nathaniel  Gilbert,  and  Dr. 
Coke  found  some  societies  and  a  missionary  already 
there.  He  did  good  work  on  the  island  on  which 
he  landed;  and,  leaving  ^Ir.  Hammett  behind  him, 
he  took  shipping  for  Charleston,  in  South  Carolina. 
He  did  not  receive  a  very  cordial  greeting  from  his 
American  brethren,  and  when  he  reached  Virginia 
again  he  found  the  people  much  exasperated  at  his 
plain  dealing.  He  saw  that  he  w^as  doing  neither 
slaA^es  nor  masters  any  good  by  his  course,  and  he 
desisted  from  it.     He  could  not  be  still  nor  remain 


Francis  As  bury,  87 

iu  one  place;  so  lie  returned  to  England  and  Ire- 
land.    He  swept  over  England;  then  preached  in 
the  Isle  of  Jersey ;  then  came  again  to  the  West  In- 
dies; and  was  the  next  year  once  more  in  Charles- 
ton.    The  second  Conference  in  the  state  of  Georgia, 
at  that  time  the  southern  frontier  of  the  United 
states,  was  to  be  held  in  Wilkes  county.     It  was  to 
be    reached    only   on    horseback;    and    so,    leaving 
Charleston,  he  began  his  journey  through  the  wil- 
derness; and,  after  over  a  hundred  miles  through 
pine  woods  and  swamps,  he  reached  the  higher  and 
better  lands  of  South  Carolina,  where  great  crowds 
were  gathered  to  hear  a  real  bishop  and  a  doctor 
of  laws.      He  found  a  vigorous  young  Conference 
in  Georgia;  and,  as  usual,  enterprising  some  great 
scheme,  he  set  on  foot  the  Wesley  and  Whitefield 
College  of  Georgia,  which  never  became  an  institu- 
tion.    Tobacco  was  the  Georgia  staple  then,  and 
twelve  thousand  five  hundred  pounds  of  tobacco, 
worth  £500,  was  subscribed  for  the  school.      The 
doctor,  now  wise  from  experience,  let  social  ques- 
tions alone.      He  remained  in   America  this  time 
nearly  six  months,  and  then  he  crossed  the  sea  again. 
He  w^as  nominally  a  bishop  of  the  Methodist  Episco- 
pal Church  in  America,  but  he  was  really  the  mis- 
sionary bishop  of  all  Methodism.     This  restless,  de- 
voted, heroic  man  felt  that  there  was  no  man  for 
whom  Christ  had  not  died,  and  no  man  Christ  could 
not  save.     Mr.  Wesley  said  that  the  world  was  his 
parish,  yet  England  and  Ireland  gave  him  all  he 
could  do;  but  Dr.  Coke  found  the  British  empire  too 
small  a  field  for  his  enterprise.     So,  after  a  few 
months  in  England,  he  returned  again  to  America. 
As  a  bishop  he  was  not  a  very  pleasant  man  to  an 


88  Francis  As  bury. 

American  Conference.  He  had  his  views,  and  did 
not  expect  others,  especially  the  backwoods  preach- 
ers of  America,  to  have  theirs;  and  as  he  did  but  lit- 
tle of  the  w  ork  in  America,  they  insisted  on  holding 
their  way  and  holding  their  opinions.  While  really 
valuing  the  good  doctor,  they  refused  to  be  ruled  by 
him;  and  at  last  they  told  him  that  he  might  stay  in 
England  if  it  suited  him  best. 

Mr.  Wesley  died  while  Coke  was  in  America,  and 
he  hurried  back  to  England.  The  Wesleyan  preach- 
ers there  never  felt  very  cordially  toward  him.  They 
thought  his  aim  in  returning  was  perhaps  to  take 
Mr.  Wesley's  place.  This  is  very  doubtful;  but  if 
it  was,  little  he  made  of  it. 

Not  satisfied  with  his  great  work  in  supervising 
missions  and  being  Bishop  of  America,  the  good 
doctor  now  prepared  a  commentarA^  He  did  not 
take  time  to  make  it  short,  and  drew  largely  upon 
Dr.  Dodd's  work.  The  Conference  refused  to  print 
the  folios,  but  he  published  them  on  his  own  account. 
After  spending  some  fifty  thousand  dollars  on  it, 
and  having  a  world  of  trouble  out  of  it,  he  sold  out 
to  the  Conference  on  a  long  time  for  fifteen  thousand 
dollars,  and  retired  from  book  printing.  He  was 
rich,  he  married  rich,  and  gave  away  all  he  had.  He 
enterprised  a  mission  in  Africa,  which  failed;  and 
at  last,  at  his  own  expense,  fitted  out  a  mission  to 
Ceylon.  On  his  way  there  he  died.  They  buried 
him  in  the  sea,  and  its  waves  never  sung  their  requi- 
em over  a  nobler  soul. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

1785. 

The  New  Bishop — Tour  Southward — Henry  Willis — Jesse  Lee 
— Visits  Charleston,  S.  C. — Edgar  Wells — Journey  North- 
ward— Cokesbury  College — Visit  to  Mount  Vernon — Corner 
Stone  of  College  Laid. 

WHEN  the  Conference  of  1784  ended,  Bishop 
Asburj  at  once  began  his  journey  to  the 
south.  He  rode  through  central  Virginia,  where  lie 
found  Henry  Willis,  who  had  not  attended  the 
Christmas  Conference.  He  ordained  him  a  deacon 
and  an  elder,  and  took  him  with  him  on  his  journey. 
In  two  weeks  he  was  in  central  North  Carolina,  and 
mentions  as  stopping  places  Thompson's,  Short's, 
Fisher's  River,  Witherspoon's,  Elsbury,  and  Salis- 
bury. Here  at  Salisbury  he  met  Jesse  Lee,  who  had 
not  been  at  the  Christmas  Conference.  The  new- 
bishop  preached  at  Salisbury,  and  used  the  liturgy 
and  wore  the  gown  and  bands.  Jesse  Lee  had  had 
enough  of  liturgies  and  gowns  in  his  Virginia  bring- 
ing up,  and  he  gave  the  new  bishop  his  mind  on  this 
subject,  and  as  far  as  we  know  the  gown  and  bands 
vanished  forever,  to  the  gratification  of  American 
]Methodists.  Jesse  Lee  was  to  go  with  the  bishop 
to  Charleston,  and  the  big-bodied,  big-brained,  big- 
hearted  Virginian  was  just  the  companion  the  some- 
what gloomy  bishop  needed,  and  he  says  that  he  was 
greatly  comforted  by  brother  Lee's  company.  As- 
bury,  Willis,  and  Lee  made  their  way  to  Georgetov>m, 
where  William  Wavne,  nephew  of  Mad  Anthony 

(89) 


90  F BAN  CIS  As  BURY. 

Wayne,  received  them  into  his  home  and  heartily 
entertained  them.  They  rode  into  Charleston  a  few 
days  afterwards,  but  not  to  find  themselves  entirely 
among  strangers.  iV  Mr.  Edgar  Wells,  who  was  a 
merchant  there,  to  whom  Mr.  Willis  was  commend- 
ed by  Mr.  Wayne,  now  welcomed  the  three  evan. 
gelis.ts  to  his  home,  and  entertained  them  while 
there.  They  found  themselves  in  the  largest  city 
south  of  Philadelphia.  There  were  of  Christian  de- 
nominations: ''The  Church"  people,  who  had  two 
churches,  St.  Michael's  and  St.  Philip's;  the  Inde- 
pendents, the  Huguenots,  the  Baptists,  one  each. 
In  the  lower  part  of  the  city,  near  the  bay,  there  was 
an  old  Baptist  church,  which  had  been  perhaps  one 
of  the  first  churches  built  in  the  city,  and  being  aban- 
doned by  the  Baptists,  it  was  secured  by  Mr.  Wells 
as  a  preaching  place.  Charleston  was  now  nearly 
one  hundred  years  old.  Peculiar  advantages  of 
location  made  it  a  most  important  city.  The  back 
country  for  hundreds  of  miles  sent  its  products  here 
for  sale,  and  the  people  bought  here  their  supplies. 
There  was  a  large  number  of  slaves  on  the  Sea 
Islands  and  rice  plantations  near  by.  These  ne- 
groes do  not  seem  to  have  had  any  special  attention 
religiously  till  Asbury  began  his  work  among  them. 
Among  the  white  population  there  was  much  lax- 
ity of  morals  and  much  formality  in  religion.  It 
evinced  the  daring  character  of  Asbury's  ministry 
that  he  should  have  fastened  his  eye  on  Charleston 
wath  a  determination  to  establish  Methodism  there, 
and  while  its  success  in  this  city  has  not  been  re- 
markable as  compared  to  some  other  places,  it  has 
been  won  over  perhaps  greater  difficulties  than  in 


Fbancis  As  bury.  91 

any  other  city  on  the  eastern  cocist.  The  new  bisii- 
op  preached  every  day  for  a  week.  Jesse  Lee  re- 
mained with  him  and  helped  him  both  by  preaching 
and  singing  for  a  few  days.  The  strangers  attract- 
ed a  considerable  amount  of  attention,  and  at  least 
one  person  was  converted,  and  he  was  worth  the 
journey.  It  was  their  host,  Mr.  Edgar  Wells.  A 
society  was  formed  and  Methodism  was  established 
in  Charleston.  After  laying  the  foundation  for  the 
future,  he  left  Charleston  and  made  his  way  along 
the  eastern  border  of  South  Carolina  to  Wilming- 
ton, in  North  Carolina.  It  was  a  somewhat  impor- 
tant commercial  town,  and  Asbury  says:  "We  went 
to ,  but  he  was  not  prepared  to  receive  us;  after- 
wards to ,  w here  we  had  a  crowd  of  merry,  sing- 
ing, drunken  raftsmen.  To  this  merriment  I  soon 
put  a  stop.  T  felt  the  power  of  the  devil  here.  The 
bell  went  round  to  give  notice  of  preaching,  and  I 
preached  to  a  large  congregation.  When  I  had 
done,  behold  F.  Kill  came  into  the  room  pov/dered 
of?,  with  a  number  of  ladies  and  gentlemen.  As  I 
could  not  get  my  horse  and  bags,  I  heard  him  out.  I 
A  eril}^  believe  his  sermon  was  his  own,  it  was  so  much 
like  his  conversation."  He  does  not  say  who  F.  Hill 
was,  nor  where  he  had  met  him  before,  but  he  was 
probably  a  relative  of  Green  Hill.  He  rode  to  meet 
the  Conference  at  Green  Hill's. 

We  cannot  get  a  very  satisfactory  view  of  this 
Conference.  We  know  it  met  at  Green  Hill's,  in 
eastern  North  Carolina,  and  that  he  entertained  the 
entire  body.  He  was  a  large  slaveholder,  a  wealthy 
planter,  and  a  local  Methodist  preacher.  Dr.  Coke 
was  with  Asbury,  and  Asbury  simply  remarks: 
"Here  we  held  our  Conference  in  great  peace."  Who 


92  FbANCIS  xlsBURY, 

were  present  we  do  not  know,  but  at  this  Conference 
new  work  was  laid  out.  The  saintly  John  .Tunnell 
was  sent  to  Charleston.  The  distant  settlements  on 
the  Holston  and  on  the  Yadkin,  as  well  as  the  thick- 
ly-settled counties  of  Halifax,  Kowan,  Caswell,  and 
Guilford,  and  the  New  River,  Tar  River,  and  Roan- 
oke River  settlements,  were  provided  with  preach- 
ers. At  this  Conference  we  find  the  first  mention 
of  presiding  elders.  Richard  Ivev,  Reuben  Ellis, 
and  Henry  Willis  were  made  "president  elders,"  as 
Bishop  Asbury  called  them.  Asbury  had  a  milita- 
ry mind,  and  his  organization  of  forces  was  com- 
plete. The  bishop  first,  then  the  elder,  the  preacher 
in  charge,  the  junior  preacher,  the  local  preacher, 
the  class  leader;  there  was  supervision  from  the  top 
to  the  bottom.  The  selection  of  certain  men  as  sub- 
bishops,  which  was  begun  now,  wafe  not  done  with- 
out a  certain  amount  of  opposition. 

This  Conference  was  merely  the  assembling  of  a 
few  preachers,  called  together  by  the  bishop,  at  a 
place  chosen  by  him  for  the  convenience  of  the 
preachers.  The  Conference,  as  it  vras  called,  met 
now  in  sections,  but  no  section  was  authorized  to  do 
anything  of  a  general  nature  until  the  other  sections 
were  consulted  and  had  agreed  to  it.  Dr.  Coke  was 
with  him  at  this  Conference,  and  he  and  Asbury  be- 
gan their  journey  together  to  Baltimore,  but  parted 
company,  and  Asbury  rode  through  eastern  Vir- 
ginia. On  the  way  he  passed  through  Yorktown.  He 
says  the  inhabitants  were  dissolute  and  careless,  but 
he  preached  to  a  few  serious  women  at  one  o'clock, 
and  by  request  to  the  ladies  again  at  four.  He 
crossed  the  York  and  Rappahannock  rivers  and  went 
into  the  Northern  Neck.     The  first  settlements  of  a 


Francis  As  bury,  93 

new  country  are  naturally  along  the  water  ways, 
and  when  land  is  cheap  and  easily  secured  it  is  nat- 
ural that  large  bodies  should  be  taken  \x\)  by  the  first 
settlers  and  large  fortunes  should  be  the  result; 
and  thus  it  was  in  this  tide-water  country.  The 
country  between  the  Rappahannock  and  the  Poto- 
mac was  very  fertile,  and  for  over  a  hundred  years 
had  been  settled  by  Englishmen.  Those  who  lived 
in  it  were  among  the  wealthiest  and  most  aristocrat- 
ic in  Virginia.  From  these  people  came  the  Lees, 
the  Washingtous,  the  Masons,  and  others  wiio  have 
been  distinguished  in  the  councils  of  Virginia. 
Across  the  Potomac  from  there  was  the  western 
shore  of  Maryland,  where  the  first  Catholic  settle- 
ments had  been  made.  Asbury  says  at  Hoe's  Ferry 
he  found  the  people  wretchedly  wicked.  He  paid  a 
dollar  for  ferriage,  and  left  them  and  rode  to  Alex- 
andria. Here  he  joined  Dr.  Coke,  and  together  they 
called  on  General  Washington  at  his  home  at  Mount 
Vernon,  and  asked  him  to  sign  a  petition  to  the  as- 
sembly of  Virginia,  which  they  were  circulating,  for 
the  immediate  abolition  of  slavery.  The  general 
received  them  very  courteously,  invited  them  to  dine 
with  him,  and  gave  them  his  views  about  slavery. 
and  then  refused  to  sign  their  petition.  They  took 
their  departure  that  afternoon,  and,  as  far  as  I  can 
find  any  record,  that  was  the  first  and  last  and  only 
time  Bishop  Asbury  was  ever  in  Mount  Vernon,  Dr. 
Strickland  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding. 

When  Mr.  Asbury  met  John  Dickins  in  North  Car- 
olina, at  Dickins's  suggestion  he  resolved  to  attempt 
a  school  like  the  Kingswood  School  in  England], 
which  he  felt  was  much  needed;  but  when  Dr.  Coke 
came  and  heard  of  the  plan,  he  was  taken  w^ith  the 


94  Francis  As  bury. 

idea  of  a  college — a  real  Methodist  college,  the  first 
in  the  world.  The  history  of  this  ill-fated  Cokes- 
bury  College  belongs  largely  to  annals  of  the  Meth- 
odist historian;  suffice  it  to  say  that  after  Dr.  Coke, 
who  knew  all  about  colleges,  had  made  his  plans  on 
a  sufficiently  extensive  scale,  he  went  back  to  En- 
gland to  meet  his  astonished  and  indignant  brethren 
of  the  connection  there,  and  left  poor  Asbury  to  bear 
the  burden  of  carrying  them  out.  Asbury  was  not 
well,  but  he  rode  up  to  Abingdon  and  preached  the 
foundation  sermon  of  Cokesbury  College.  The  only 
biographer  of  Asbury,  Strickland,  evidently  draws 
upon  his  fancy  for  a  picture  which  Stevens  repro- 
duces in  his  history.  If  there  is  any  proof  that  As- 
bury was  attired  in  a  long  gown,  with  flowing  bands, 
I  have  not  been  able  to  find  it.  The  incident  is  like 
some  of  the  other  things,  related  by  his  biographer, 
given  more  to  add  picturesqueness  to  a  somewhat 
prosy  story  than  because  it  was  a  fact  known  to  be 
true.  We  would  fain  hope  that  after  the  vestments 
disappeared  at  Salisbui'y  they  never  came  forth 
again.  What  the  home  of  Ebenezer  Blackwell  was 
to  Wesley,  so  was  the  home  of  Gough  to  Asbury. 
Tie  always  turned  his  footsteps  thitherward  after 
his  long  journeys,  and  paused  longer  here  in  his 
ceaseless  travel  than  he  did  anywhere  else.  He 
rested  less  than  a  week,  however,  and  then  went  into 
a  German  settlement  in  Maryland,  near  Sharpsburg. 
He  rode  by  his  favorite  watering  place,  Bath,  in 
Berkley,  up  the  south  branch  of  the  Potomac,  and 
after  a  dreary  ride  came  to  Morgantown,  Virginia, 
and  returned  to  the  springs,  where  he  spent  nearly  a 
week  nursing  his  sick  throat. 
Then  through  the  broiling  sun  in  August  he  came 


Fbancis  Asbury.  95 

to  Baltimore,  where  lie  had  an  attack  of  fever  which 
kept  hira  two  weeks  in  bed  at  Perry  Hall.  While 
he  was  sick  here  his  dear  friend  Mrs.  Chamier  died. 
From  Asbury's  account  of  the  attendance  at  her  fu~ 
neral  service,  and  other  allusions  to  her,  she  seems 
to  have  been  a  gentlewoman  of  deep  piety.  He  w^as 
able  to  creep  from  his  sick  bed,  and  performed  the 
funeral  rites  and  preached  to  about  a  thousand  peo- 
})Ie,  and  two  days  afterwards  set  off  to  Philadelphia. 
He  made  a  flying  trip  to  New  York,  where  his  old 
friends  supplied  his  needs,  and  then  started  south  ^ 
ward  again.  He  bought  a  light  jersey  wagon  in 
New  Jersey,  but  after  trying  to  use  it  a  few  weeks 
he  went  back  to  his  sulky  again,  and  continued  Mh 
journey  southward* 


CHAPTEE  XIV. 

17 8G. 

Asbury's  Second  Episcopal  Tour — Hanover,  Virginia — North 
Carolina — Sinclair  Capers — Charleston — Hope  Hull — John 
Dickins  and  the  Revised  Discipline — Central  North  Carolina 
— The  Baltimore  Conference — The  Valley  of  Virginia — Re- 
ligious Experience  at  Bath — Return  Southward. 

IX  Virginia,  on  Ms  way,  Asbury's  throat  became  in- 
flamed, and  he  had  to  lie  by  at  the  widow  Cham- 
berlayne's,  in  Hanover  county.  She  was  very  kind, 
and  being-  a  somewhat  skillful  leech,  and  withal  a 
motherly  woman,  she  put  him  on  his  feet  again  in  a 
short  time.  He  had  a  rheumatic  affection  of  one  of 
his  feet,  and  was  led  to  reflect  upon  the  dark  provi- 
dence. To  those  who  read  the  story  of  his  exposure 
and  toils,  his  long  fasts  and  exhausting  labors,  the 
providence  which  called  a  halt  by  a  severe  twinge  of 
pain  does  not  seem  so  dark. 

He  went  now  into  Xorth  Carolina.  He  was  on 
the  eastern  shore,  riding  parallel  with  the  coast. 
The  rains  had  been  very  heavy,  and  the  whole  coun- 
try was  under  water,  but  they  floundered  on.  He 
says  they  toiled  over  swampy  routes  and  crazy 
bridges  until  they  arrived  at  Xew  Berne,  then  the 
capital  of  Xorth  Carolina,  where  the  assembly  was 
in  session.  He  sailed  down  to  Beaufort,  where  the 
people  were  very  kind,  but  had  little  religion.  The 
journey  overland  was  largely  through  a  dreary 
waste  until  thev  reached  Georgetown.  Here  the 
(96) 


Francis  As  bury.  97 

faithful  Willis  met  them,  and  these  were  cheered  to 
see  on  the  way  the  frame  for  a  preaching  house  go- 
ing uij.  On  this  journey  he  stopijed  at  the  home  of 
S.  Gapers.  This  was  Sinclair  Capers,  the  uncle  of 
William  Capers.  He  was  a  well-to-do  rice-pianter, 
converted  under  the  ministry  of  Henry  Willis,  and 
was  one  of  Asbury's  earliest  and  w^armest  friends. 

On  the  13th  of  January  he  came  again  into 
Charleston,  where  he  rested  a  few  da}  s,  then  turned 
his  face  to  the  northwest,  and  went  with  labor,  bul 
without  anything  of  special  interest,  into  North  Car- 
olina. At  Salisbury  he  met  the  preachers  and  spent 
three  days  in  the  Conference.  One  of  these,  Hope 
Hull,  he  speaks  of  as  "a  smooth-tongued,  pretty 
speaker,  that  promises  fair  for  future  usefulness." 
The  promise  was  not  belied,  for  he  was  in  after  time 
a  power  for  good.  We  shall  see  him  often  as  As- 
bury's cherished  helper,  whether  in  the  itinerant  or 
local  ranks.  He  was  from  the  eastern  shore  of  Mary- 
land, and  had  spent  his  last  years  in  Georgia,  where 
he  was  a  leading  man  in  Church  and  State.  The 
bishop  rode  through  the  central  parts  of  North  Car- 
olina, and  was  not  at  all  pleased  with  the  state  of  af- 
fairs. In  Hillsboro  he  found  things  so  discouraging 
that  he  resolvied  to  come  no  more  till  they  were  bet- 
tered. John  Dickins,  who  was  now  married,  and 
had  returned  from  New  York  to  North  Carolina, 
had  been  aiding  Asbury  in  getting  the  Discipline 
ready  for  the  press.  Dickins,  who  had  been  at  Eton, 
was  at  that  time  the  most  scholarly  man  in  the 
connection.  He  had  been  so  opposed  to  Asbury's 
course,  when  he  resisted  the  preachers  who  worked 
to  separate  the  societies  from  the  Established 
Church,  that  he  desisted  from  traveling,  and  it  was 
7 


98  Francis  As  bury, 

evident  from  his  course  then  that  the  sturdy  En- 
glishman had  little  use  for  the  English  establish- 
ment, and  little  disposition  to  keep  on  good  terms 
with  it;  and  it  is  probable  that  the  change  of  the 
name  of  Asbury's  office  in  the  Discipline  from  su- 
perintendent to  bishop  was  at  his  instance.  He  had 
good  literary  taste,  and  was  the  first  book  agent  in 
the  connection.  The  country  along  Asbury's  route, 
although  perhaps  the  oldest  part  of  central  North 
Carolina,  was  by  no  means  prosperous,  and  it  was 
somewhat  difficult  to  get  good  food  or  tolerable 
lodgings,  and  the  religious  condition  of  things  was 
not  flourishing;  but  when  he  crossed  over  into  Vir- 
ginia he  found  things  in  a  very  livel}^  state.  The 
Conference  was  held  at  Lane's,  and  there  w^ere  some 
spirits  which  were  tried,  he  said,  before  it  ended. 
There  were,  however,  ten  new  probationers  added 
to  the  preaching  force.  His  journals,  never  full,  are 
exceedingly  barren  here,  and  we  know  but  little  of 
wdiat  occurred.  He  w^ent  on  northward,  and  at  Al- 
exandria, where  he  preached  in  the  courthouse,  he 
drew  a  plan  and  set  on  foot  a  subscription  for  a 
meetinghouse. 

The  Baltimore  Conference  was  to  be  held  at  Ab- 
ingdon, Maryland,  where  the  new  college  was  lo- 
cated. He  found  it  now  only  ready  for  the  roof,  but 
a  debt  of  nine  hundred  dollars  hung  over  it.  It  vras 
never  free  from  debt,  and  he  w^as  never  free  from 
Avorry  as  long  as  it  stood.  Money  was  scarce,  and 
jet  he  must  beg.  The  good  brethren  in  Baltimore 
had  built  a  new  meetinghouse,  and  on  Light  street 
the  congregation,  which  had  worshiped  in  Lovely 
Lane,  a  few  blocks  away,  were  now  in  better  quar- 
ters.    Asbury  preached  for  them  twice  on  Sunday, 


Francis  As  bury,  99 

and  Wiiatcoat  held  a  watch-night  with  them  on 
Tuesday  night. 

In  the  west  of  Maryland  there  was  a  large  settle- 
ment of  Germans,  and  he  preached  at  Antietam, 
where,  nearly  a  century  afterwards,  the  Confederate 
and  Federal  armies  met  in  hostile  combat.  He  then 
crossed  the  Potomac,  and  entered  into  the  northern 
part  of  the  Valley  of  Virginia.  He  preached  in  a 
grove  in  Winchester,  and  went  on  to  Newtown, 
where  he  met  Otterbein,  with  whom  he  consulted 
about  the  formation  of  the  Church  of  the  United 
Brethren.  Asbury  was  la/ue  and  weary,  and  the 
country  was  new  and  rough.  The  section  of  west- 
ern Maryland  and  west  Virginia  and  Pennsylvania 
was  then  being  peopled  by  new  settlers,  and  Asbury 
was  always  ttith  the  advanced  guard.  He  rode  out 
to  Coxe's  fort  on  the  Ohio  River  and  then  into  the 
lower  counties  of  Pennsylvania.  He  had  ridden  one 
hundred  and  fifty  miles  on  as  bad  roads  as  any  he 
had  seen  on  the  continent.  He  had  now  reached 
the  point  from  wdiich  he  started  southward  on  his 
first  tour,  and  in  July  he  went  to  the  w^aters  at  Bath, 
in  Berkley,  and  as  he  had  no  appointment  for  three 
weeks  he  resolved  to  spend  the  time  recruiting  in 
Bath;  but  he  w^as  not  willing  to  be  idle,  and  he 
preached  every  other  night  and  spent  his  days  of 
solitude  in  much  prayer. 

Several  times  in  his  life  he  hoped  that  wondrous 
change  for  which  he  had  sought  and  prayed,  when 
all  sinful  tendencies  would  be  destroyed,  had  come; 
but  then  he  ^ubted,  and  gave  up  his  confidence 
and  sought  again,  and  now  he  says:  "A  pleasing 
thought  f)assed  through  my  mind;  it  was  this:  that 
[  was  saved  from  the  remains  of  sin."     He  now 


100  Francis  Asbuey, 

went  northward,  and  worn  and  weary  he  reached 
New  York.  He  was  sick,  and  for  eight  days  was  in 
bed,  but  as  soon  as  he  was  able  to  travel  he  started 
for  the  south,  and  made  his  usual  tour  through  the 
eastern  shore,  and  then  came  again  to  the  trouble- 
some college.  It  had  now  cost  ten  thousand  dollars, 
and  was  ready  for  a  president.  Mr.  Wesley  had  rec- 
ommended a  Mr.  Heathy  and  he  was  put  in  charge, 
and  then  Asbury  began  his  journey  southward.  The 
iamily  from  which  Marj^  Washington  came,  the 
Balls,  lived  in  Lancaster  county,  and  one  of  the 
wealthy  and  aristocratic  Balls,  a  widow,  had  become 
a  Methodist.  ''A  lady,"  said  Asbury,  "  came  by  craft 
and  took  her  from  her  house,  and  with  tears,  threats, 
and  entreaties  urged  her  to  desist  from  receiving  the 
preachers  and  Methodist  preaching;  and  all  in  vain.*' 
This  most  excellent  woman  v^^as  for  a  long  time  the 
stanch  friend  and  warm  supporter  of  Asbury. 

Coming  through  Gloucester,  York,  and  preaching 
as  he  went,  he  came  to  Por-tsmouth,  joined  Francis 
Poythress,  waded  the  Dismal  Swamp  and  along  the 
eastern  shore  of  North  and  South  Carolina,  and  at 
last,  in  March  of  1787,  reached  Charleston,  where  he 
joined  Dr.  Coke  once  more. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

1181. 

The  Tour  of  the  Two  Bishops— Dr.  Coke  Again— The  Blue 
Meetinghouse  in  Charleston— Prosperity  of  the  Work  in 
South  Carolina  and  Georgia— Central  South  Carolina— Jour- 
ney Northward — Virginia  Conference — Baltimore  Confer- 
ence—Dr.  Coke  in  Trouble— The  New  Discipline— Mr.  Wes- 
ley's Displeasure — Effort  to  Appoint  a  Bishop — Failure. 

ri^HE  journals  of  Asbury  are  for  the  most  part 
I  mere  memoranda  of  comparatively  uninterest- 
ing events.  They  show  us  the  bishop  flitting  from 
place  to  place,  but  say  little  of  what  he  did,  save 
that  he  preached ;  and  we  are  dependent  upon  other 
sources  for  a  knowledge  of  times  and  places  and 
men. 

Dr.  Coke  had  made  a  rapid  tour  through  a  part  of 
the  country  immediately  after  he  was  made  a  bishop, 
in  which  he  had  done  many  unwise  things  in  Ms  anx- 
iety to  abolish  what  he  thought  w^as  the  great  evil  of 
slavery,  and  had  gone  back  to  England.  After  two 
rather  stormy  years  there  he  returned  to  America, 
coming  by  the  West  Indies,  where  he  had  done  some 
valuable  work.  He  was  to  meet  Bishop  Asbury  in 
Charleston.  The  plucky  little  congregation  of  white 
Methodists  there,  assisted  by  the  large  body  of  negro 
members,  had  built  a  commodious  and  unpretentious 
Avooden  church  in  the  lower  part  of  Charleston, 
known  for  a  long  time  as  the  Blue  Meetinghouse,  and 
afterw^^rds  as  the  Cumberland-street  Church.  This 
w^as  the  largest  church  south  of  Baltimore;  and  while 
there  were  not  twenty-five  white  members  in  the  so- 

(101) 


102  Francis  Asbuey. 

ciety,  the  church  was  self-sustaining,  as  all  the 
churches  were  of  necessity  forced  to  be  in  those 
days. 

Asbury's  plans  for  advancing  the  work  in  the  sec- 
tion which  was  in  the  South  Carolina  Conference 
had  been  very  wise  and  successful.  The  states  of 
South  Carolina,  Korth  Carolina,  and  Georgia  were 
included  in  this  Conference.  There  w^as  an  arrange- 
ment of  the  entire  work  by  which  the  great  circuits 
touched  each  other  from  Virginia  to  Georgia.  The 
historians  of  Methodism  have  had  much  to  say  of  the 
faithful  companions  of  Asbury  and  of  their  doings, 
and  to  them  we  must  leave  all  else  than  an  account 
of  those  men  and  that  work  with  which  the  good 
bishop  was  immediately  connected. 

The  eastern  parts  of  North  Carolina  and  South 
Carolina  near  the  ocean  had  been  settled  nearly  a 
hundred  years,  but  the  central  and  western  parts  of 
both  of  these  states,  and  much  of  the  most  desirable 
portions,  had  only  been  settled  some  thirty  or  forty 
years.  They  had  been  rapidly  peopled  by  a  motley 
body  of  Protestants — Germans,  Scotch,  Scotch-Irish, 
and  pure  Irish — and  since  the  Revolutionary  War 
very  many  families  had  removed  from  Virginia  and 
Maryland  into  South  Carolina,  Georgia,  and  North 
Carolina^  and  people  from  these  states  were  noY^^ 
moving  continually  to  these  newly-opened  and  fer- 
tile fields. 

As  soon  as  the  South  Carolina  Conference  was 
over,  Asbury  and  Coke  began  their  journey  to  the 
Virginia  Conference.  They  went  directly  to  Cam- 
den, and  thence  through  the  pine  woods  to  North 
Carolina,  and  without  adventure  rapidly  rode  across 


Francis  As  bury,  103 

the  state  to  Charlotte  county,  Virginia,  where,  at  the 
residence  of  William  White,  the  preachers  of  middle 
and  lower  Virginia  were  called  to  Conference. 

Bishop  Coke,  who  had  his  ideas  of  an  episcopacy 
drawn  from  his  English  training,  could  not  divest 
himself  of  the  idea  that  he  was  a  prelate,  and  while 
he  was  in  England  he  had  of  his  own  will  changed 
the  time  and  place  of  the  meeting  of  the  Conferences 
after  they  had  been  fixed.  He  was  astonished  at  the 
dissatisfaction  which  w^as  manifested,  and  manifest 
ed  very  decidedly  in  the  Conferences  he  met.  There 
was  a  very  large  crowd  present  in  this  then  new  coun 
try;  three  thousand  were  supposed  to  be  assembled. 
As  soon  as  the  Virginia  Conference  was  over,  the  two 
bishops  hurried  to  the  Baltimore  Conference,  which 
met  in  Baltimore  the  next  v/eek.  They  reached  the 
city  on  Monday,  and  on  Tuesday  the  Conference  met. 
It  was  evident  that  there  was  a  storm  brewing.  The 
doctor  was  nettled  at  the  prospect,  and  when  Nelson 
Reed  w^as  making  his  protest.  Coke  said:  "You  must 
think  you  are  my  equals."  "Yes,  sir,"  said  the  in- 
trepid Marylander,  "we  do ;  and  we  are  not  only  the 
equals  of  Dr.  Coke,  but  of  Dr.  Coke's  king." 

The  impetuous  little  doctor  was  as  ready  to  yield 
when  he  was  wrong  as  he  was  to  assert  his  authority, 
and  so  he  signed  a  very  humble  statement  that  while 
he  was  out  of  America  he  would  exercise  no  govern- 
ment over  the  American  churches,  and  while  he  was 
in  it  he  would  simply  preside  at  Conferences,  ordain 
according  to  law,  and  travel  at  large. 

Asbury  simply  says:  "We  had  some  warm  and 
close  debates  at  Conference,  but  all  ended  in  love 
and  peace." 

The  two  bishops  wont  together  to  New  York,  Bish- 


104  FUANCiti  ASBUBY, 

oj)  Coke  doing  all  the  preaching,  Asbury  silent  from 
necessity,  for  his  throat  was  in  bad  condition.  When 
he  was  able,  he  began  to  preach  again,  and  now  in  the 
cit^,  now  in  the  country,  he  was  at  work.  In  Xew 
York  he  met  the  leaders  and  trustees,  and  after  some 
explanation,  '^settled  matters"  relative  to  singing  in 
public  worship.  If  he  settled  them  then,  they  have 
become  sadly  unsettled  since  that  time.  He  went  to 
New  Kocheile,  and  found  it  as  it  was  sixteen  years 
before,  when  he  was  on  the  New  York  Circuit.  "  If 
there  is  no  change,"  he  says,  "I  will  trouble  them  no 
more." 

He  says  "his  body  was  weak,  his  soul  peaceful, 
and  he  had  power  over  all  sin."  For  the  first  time  in 
his  ministry  he  went  up  the  Hudson  as  far  as  West 
Point.  He  merely  surveyed  the  field,  and  then 
turned  his  face  southward  again  through  northern 
New  Jersey  to  Philadelphia,  through  northern  Mary- 
land and  to  the  springs  at  Bath. 

The  Discipline,  upon  which  he  and  John  Dickins 
had  been  at  work  the  year  before,  was  now  pub- 
lished. In  the  Discipline  of  1784,  adopted  by  the 
Christmas  Conference,  the  second  question  was  as 
follows:  "What  can  be  done  in  order  to  the  future 
union  of  the  Methodists?"  Answer:  "During  the 
life  of  the  Kev.  Mr.  Wesley  we  acknowledge  our- 
selves his  sons  in  the  gospel,  ready  in  all  matters  be- 
longing to  Church  government  to  obey  his  com- 
mands." This  second  question  and  answer  were  left 
out  of  the  Discipline  in  1787,  and  to  add  to  the  of- 
fensiveness  of  this  act  to  Mr.  Wesley  the  two  super- 
intendents were  called  bishops. 

The  publication  of  the  Discipline,  with  the  changes 
made  in  it,  was  not  the  onlv  f^round  of  offense  which 


Francis  Asbuby.  105 

Mr.  Asbury  gave  Mr.  Wesley.  He  was  known  by 
Mr.  Wesley  to  be  the  ruling  spirit  in  the  connection. 
Mr.  Wesley  had  never  been  willing  to  surrender  any 
part  of  the  power  with  which  he  honestly  believed 
he  had  been  divinely  invested,  and  he  had  no  idea 
of  giving  up  his  control  of  the  American  societies 
to  Mr.  Asbiiry  or  anyone  else.  So  he  sent  the  Confer- 
ence, through  Dr.  Coke,  peremptory  orders  to  ordain 
Mr.  Whatcoat  a  bishcTp,  which  the  Conference  as 
peremptorily  refused  to  do.  They  had  introduced 
into  the  minutes  the  binding  minute  in  1784,  by 
which  he  understood  that  they  bound  themselves  to 
do  what  they  now  positively  refused  to  do,  and  now 
to  prevent  any  further  misunderstanding  they  sim- 
ply repealed  the  minute,  and  left  off  the  name  of 
Mr.  ^Vesley.  Of  course,  Mr.  Asbury  incurred  all  the 
blame  for  their  action.* 

Dr.  Coke  was  silly  enough  to  say  in  his  funeral 
sermon  on  Mr.  Wesley  that  this  act  of  discourtesy 
from  the  Conference  hastened  Mr.  Wesley's  death. 
The  Conference  did  not  intend  to  leave  Mr.  Wesley 
in  any  doubt  of  where  it  stood,  and  while  it  may  not 
have  been  pleasant  for  him  to  know  it,  yet  that  it 
had  the  effect  which  Dr.  Coke  intimated  was  not  at 
all  probable. 

Mr.  Vasey,  who  came  over  with  Dr.  Coke,  was  so 
offended  that  he  obtained  ordination  from  Bishop 
White,  and  said  very  bitter  things  of  Bishop  As- 
bury. He  retracted  them  afterwards,  but  returned 
to  England,  and  by  Mr.  Wesley's  consent  obtained  a 


*Mr.  Asbury  said  that  it  was  James  O'Kelly  who  defeated 
Mr.  "Wesley's  aim  in  appointino-  Whatcoat,  and  the  Baltimore 
Conference  repealed  the  binding  minute. 


106  Francis  Asb ur  r. 

curacy,  and  afterwards  came  back  into  the  English 
Weslejan  connection,  in  which  he  died.  This  act  of 
Mr.  Asbury  in  changing  the  wording  of  the  Disci- 
pline was  concurred  in  by  Dr.  Coke,  but  was  much  to 
the  displeasure  of  Mr.  Wesley,  w^ho  some  time  after 
wrote  a  very  sharp  and  somewhat  indignant  letter 
to  Mr.  Asbury,  to  which  we  will  hereafter  refer. 

Asbury  had  so  outlined  the  work  that  the  filling 
in  w^as  comparatively  easy.  A  wondertui  response 
to  the  call  for  laborers  enabled  him  to  provide  work- 
ers for  these  new  fields.  In  every  direction  he  was 
establishing  outposts,  an'd  by  his  admirable  military 
system  he  was  having  each  detachment  of  the  army 
properly  officered,  and  under  his  own  eye. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

1788. 

Charleston  Again — Riot — Georgia — Holston — Greenbrier — Con- 
ference at  Uniontovvn,  Pennsylvania — College  Troubles. 

AFTER  Dr.  Coke  returned  to  England,  Asbiiry 
came  south,  passing  through  the  western  shore 
counties  of  Maryland,  which  he  said  was  the  only 
part  of  the  state  unoccupied  by  the  Methodists.  He 
then  crossed  the  Potomac,  rode  through  the  North- 
ern Neck  of  Virginia  and  the  tide-water  counties  of 
North  and  South  Carolina  until  he  reached  Charles- 
ton again.  The  Conference  session  was  not  a  long 
one,  but  long  enough  to  arouse  certain  lewd  fellows 
of  the  baser  sort.  Asbury  says:  "On  Sunday  morn- 
ing the  house  w^as  crowded,  and  there  were  many  at 
the  door.  A  man  made  a  riot  near  it,  and  an  alarm 
at  once  took  place.  The  ladies  leaped  out  of  the 
windows,  and  a  dreadful  confusion  ensued."  Again 
he  says:  "While  I  was  speaking  at  night  a  stone  was 
thrown  against  the  north  side  of  the  church,  another 
on  the  south,  a  third  came  through  the  pulpif  win- 
dow and  struck  near  me  inside  the  pulpit."  But  he 
adds:  "Upon  the  whole,  I  have  had  more  libei-ty  to 
speak  in  Charleston  on  this  visit  than  I  ever  did  be- 
fore, and  am  of  the  opinion  that  God  will  work  here, 
but  our  friends  are  afraid  of  the  cross."  As  he 
came  through  Virginia  he  heard  from  Philip  Cox  of 
the  wonderful  revival  in  Sussex  county,  Virginia, 
in  which  Cox  said  he  thought  not  less  than  fourteen 
hundred  people  had  been  converted,  and  John  Eas- 

(107) 


108  Francis  As  bury, 

ter  wrote  him  that  he  thought  there  was  a  still 
larger  number  in  'Brunswick.  These  statements 
would  appear  incredible  to  us  if  we  failed  to  remem- 
ber how  thick  was  the  rural  population  of  those 
counties  at  that  time^  and  how  destitute  the  people 
had  been  of  evangelical  preaching  before  the  itiner- 
ant evangelists  had  come  among  them.  Methodism 
was  not  now  new  in  this  section,  and  as  the  number 
of  preachers  increased  it  had  been  able  to  enter 
hitherto  unentered  fields^  and  had  secured  a  large 
body  of  clerical  and  lay  workers  to  till  them. 

The  effort  to  advance  the  work  had  led  to  the  ap- 
pointment in  1786  of  John  Major  and  Thomas  Hum- 
phreys to  Georgia^  and  now  Asbury  went  to  the  first 
Conference  in  that  state.  It  was  held  in  the  forks 
of  Broad  Eiver,  probably  near  the  home  of  James 
Marks,  one  of  Asbury's  old  Virginia  friends  who 
had  removed  to  Georgia. 

After  the  session  of  the  Conference  Asbury  passed 
through  the  foothills  and  mountains  of  North  Caro- 
lina. His  aim  v/as  now^  to  go  into  the  Holston  coun- 
try. He  had  held  the  Georgia  Conference  in  the 
early  part  of  April,  and,  crossing  the  Savannah 
River  into  South  Carolina,  he  came  on  into  western 
North  Carolina  and  into  the  Yadkin  country,  and 
there  he  and  his  companions  had  their  horses  shod, 
preparatory  to  a  hard  ride  across  the  mountains  of 
North  Carolina  into  what  is  now  Johnson  county, 
Tennessee.  He  crossed  three  ranges  of  mountains: 
the  first  he  called  steel,  the  second  stone,  the  third 
iron.  He  and  his  companions  were  moving  north- 
ward toward  General  Russell's,  whose  home  was 
where  Saltville  now  is.  The  trail  (for  it  was  nothing 
more)  led  across  the  head  waters  of  the  Watauga 


Francis  Asbury.  109 

Kiver.  The  country  was  almost  entirely  unsettled, 
and  there  was  a  terrific  thunder  storm  while  they 
were  on  their  way.  They  found  a  dirty  house,  where 
the  filth  might  have  been  taken  from  the  floor  with  a 
spade,  and  sought  shelter  in  it.  They  could  not  get 
wood  to  kindle  a -fire,  but  managed  to  get  through 
the  night,  and  the  next  day  they  reached  the  head 
waters  of  the  Watauga,  and  fed,  and  reached  Ward's 
that  night.  When  they  reached  the  river  the  next 
day,  the  preachers  crossed  in  a  canoe,  swimming 
their  horses  beside  it;  and  in  order  to  avoid  high 
water  they  took  an  old  trail  through  the  mountains. 
Night  came  on  in  the  wild,  and,  with  a  severe  head- 
ache, he  pressed  on  toward  Greer's.  In  answer  to 
prayer  his  head  was  eased  and  his  fever  abated,  and 
at  nine  o'clock  he  reached  Greer's;  and  set  out  the 
next  day  to  find  Cox's,  on  one  of  the  branches  of  the 
Holsfon  River.  The  road  was  through  a  wood;  he 
had  two  horses,  one  to  carry  his  baggage  and  one  to 
ride,  and  the  weary  packhorse,  delighted  with  the 
rich  herbage  along  his  way,  would  neither  lead  nor 
drive.  If  he  was  prevented  from  grazing  by  lying 
his  head  up,  he  ran  back ;  and  if  he  was  permitted  to 
graze,  he  would  not  follow.  The  good  bishop  was 
not  a  little  tried.  He  crossed  the  north  fork  of  the 
Holston  and  met  Tunnell  in  Washington  county, 
and  together  they  went  to  where  Saltville  now  is. 

In  one  of  the  most  picturesque  valleys  of  south- 
western Virginia  is  the  village  of  Saltville,  where 
for  over  a  hundred  years  a  wonderful  spring  has 
furnished  its  saline  waters  for  the  kettle.  Here 
General  William  Campbell  had  brought  his  bonnie 
bride,  the  sister  of  Patrick  Henry,  and  when  he  died 
General  Russell  had  wedded  her.     Thev  lived  here 


110  Francis  As  bur  v. 

in  great  comfort.  Jolin  Tuuueil  had  found  a  home 
at  this  hospitable  house,  and  now  Bishop  Asbury 
and  his  companion  were  welcomed  to  it.  The  bish- 
op preached  on  Sunday,  and  on  Tuesday  he  went  to 
Easley's,  on  the  Holston,  thence  to  K.'s.  He  entered 
East  Tennessee,  probably  about  where  Bristol  is, 
and  went  on  to  Owens's,  where  the  delegation  from 
Kentucky  met  him.  He  came  to  a  place  he  calls 
"Half  Acres  and  Key  Woods,"  and  held  his  Confer- 
ence with  the  few  preachers  that  were  in  the  Holston 
country  and  that  had  come  from  Kentucky  to  meet 
him.  Tennessee  was  the  rather  rebellious  daughter 
of  North  Carolina,  and  was  now  trying  to  set  up  the 
new  state  of  Franklin,  and  there  was  civil  war;  how- 
ever, Asbury  did  not  allow  this  to  disturb  him,  but 
made  this  brief  visit,  and  then  returned  to  General 
Russell's,  where  he  again  received  his  rested  horse, 
and  began  his  journey  through  upper  North  Carolina 
eastward.  This  was  his  first  visit  to  the  Holston 
country. 

He  made  his  way  as  far  south  as  Greensboro, 
North  Carolina,  and  thence  northward  to  Peters- 
burg, Virginia,  where  the  Virginia  Conference  met. 
After  its  adjournment  he  began  his  journey  to  a 
hitherto  unvisited  section — the  Greenbrier  country, 
in  the  present  West  Virginia. 

General  Assistant  Asbury  had  some  years  before 
sent  missionaries  to  the  beautiful  country  which  lies 
beyond  the  Alleghany  Mountains  in  Virginia.  It 
had  been  only  a  few  years  since  the  land  had  been 
freed  from  the  dangers  of  Indian  invasion,  and  it  had 
now  been  settled  by  an  enterprising,  sturdy  race  of 
Scotch-Irish  and  German  people.  The  pure  English 
element  was  verv  small,  but  German  and  Scotch- 


Francis  As  bury.  Ill 

Irish  Protestants  —  generally  Presbyterians  or  Lii- 
tlierans — were  in  numbers.  Tliey  found  themselves 
away  from  pastors  and  churches;  living  in  remote 
sections  widely  separated  from  each  other,  with 
no  churclies  built  nor  even  schoolhouses  estab- 
lished, they  were  without  clerical  care.  The  circuit 
preacher  had  found  them  out,  and  began  a  work  in 
an  apparently  unfriendly  soil,  which  brought  forth 
a  large  harvest.  One  of  the  first  churches  west  of 
the  AUeghanies  had  been  built  in  what  was  then 
called  Greenbrier  countj .  It  was  called  Rehoboth. 
This  church  still  stands,  as  does  another  which  bears 
its  name,  in  what  is  now  Monroe  county.  West  Vir- 
ginia. 

To  this  remote  part  of  Greenbrier  Bishop  Asbury 
and  Richard  What  coat  now^  came.  The  bishop  was 
to  hold  a  quarterly  meeting  there.  His  faithful  co- 
laborer,  Le  Roy  Cole,  was  on  the  district,  and  John 
Smith,  a  young  preacher,  w^as  on  the  circuit.  Bishop 
Asbury  and  his  companion  left  Lynchburg,  and 
passed  westward  through  Buckingham,  Bedford, 
and  Botetourt  into  Greenbrier.  His  journal  merely 
states  the  fact  that  the  journey  was  made,  but  says 
nothing  of  the  toil  of  maldng  it;  and  one  must  know 
something  of  the  old  trail  to  the  west  through  Fin- 
castle,  of  the  mountains  which  were  to  be  climbed, 
and  the  long  rides  through  almost  unpeopled  wilds, 
before  he  can  appreciate  the  labors  of  the  bishop  in 
maldng  the  journey  a  hundred  years  ago.  He  sim- 
ply says:  "Heavy  rains,  bad  roads,  straying  bewil- 
dered in  the  woods :  through  all  these  I  worried.  I 
had  a  high  fever,  and  was  otherwise  distressed  in 
body  and  ill  at  ease  in  mind."  He  preached  as  he 
went,  and  was  the  first  American  bishop  of  any  name 


112  Francis  Asbuby. 

who  was  ever  seen  in  this  remote  section  of  Virginia. 
At  last  he  crossed  the  great  xVlleghanj  range,  but  bj 
no  means  passed  out  of  the  mountains;  his  entire 
journey,  after  he  entered  them,  was  up  and  down 
from  one  mountain  to  another.  He  makes  little 
complaint.  He  merely  says  the  journej^  was  made, 
and  that  after  preaching  at  Rehoboth  he  started 
northward.  His  aim  was  to  reach  Clarksburg,  which 
was  in  northwestern  Virginia,  and  to  do  this  he  had 
to  ride  over  the  wildest  mountains  in  the  state. 

The  beautiful  prairies,  or  savannas  as  they  were 
called,  were  covered  with  rich  native  grass,  and 
many  cattle  were  fattened  on  these  plains;  and  while 
the  country  was  new,  yet  in  these  valleys  there  were 
settlers  whose  humble  homes  were  opened  to  As- 
bury  and  his  companions.  The  travelers  rode  from 
what  is  now  Monroe  county  into  the  Great  Levels,  as 
the  rich  Greenbrier  valley  is  called,  and  crossed  a 
mountain  range  into  the  Little  Levels,  a  fertile  val- 
ley in  what  is  now  Pocahontas  county.  Here  the 
McNiels,  a  family  of  Scotch-Irish  people  who  had  be- 
come Methodists,  had  their  comfortable  homes,  and 
x\sbury  mentions  them  in  his  journal.  The  descend- 
ants of  these  people  still  live  in  their  old  homes,  and 
the  home  which  sheltered  Asbury  and  McKendree 
v/as  still  standing  a  few  years  ago. 

After  leaving  this  valley,  he  started  to  Clarksburg, 
entering  Tigert's  valley,  which  he  calls  "Tyger's  Val- 
ley." He  says:  "We  came  to  an  old  forsaken  habita- 
tion. Here  our  horses  grazed  while  we  boiled  our 
meat;  at  midnight  we  brought  up  at  Jones's.  At  four 
in  the  morning  we  journeyed  on  through  devious, 
lonely  wilds,  At-here  no  food  might  be  found,  except 
what  crrew  in  the  woods  or  v/as  carried  with  us.     We 


Francis  Asbury.  113 

met  two  women  going  to  quarterly  meeting  at  Clarks- 
burg. Near  midnight  we  stopped  at  A.'s,  who  hissed 
his  dogs  at  us,  but  the  women  were  determined  to 
get  to  the  quarterly  meeting,  and  so  we  went  in. 
Our  supper  was  tea;  brothers  Phoebus  and  Cook 

took  to  the  woods.     Old gave  up  his  bed  to  the 

women;  I  lay  along  the  floor,  on  a  few  deer  skins, 
with  the  fleas.  That  night  our  poor  horses  got  no 
corn,  and  the  next  morning  they  had  to  swim  the 
Monongahela.  After  a  ty>'enty  miles'  ride  we  came 
to  Clarksburg,  but  we  were  so  outdone  it  took  us  ten 
hours  to  accomplish  it." 

The  journey  he  made  led  him  through  Pocahontas, 
Webster,  Braxton,  Lewis,  and  Harrison  counties. 
At  Clarksburg  he  lodged  with  Colonel  Jackson. 
This  Colonel  Jackson  was  the  grandfather  of  "Stone- 
wall'' Jackson,  the  great  general. 

The  Baptists  were  in  these  mountains  before  the 
Methodists  came,  and  had  a  long,  close  room  in 
which  the  Methodists  held  their  Conference.  There 
were  seven  hundred  persons  present  to  attend  the 
quarterly  meeting. 

The  journey  was  resumed  on  Monday,  and  it  was 
still  through  the  mountains.  "Oh,  how  glad  I  should 
be  [he  says]  of  plain,  clean  plank  as  preferable  to 
most  of  the  beds!  and  where  the  beds  are  in  a  bad 
state,  the  floors  are  worse."  The  gnats  were  as  bad 
as  mosquitoes,  and  the  wild  frontiersmen  were  hard- 
ly acquainted  with  the  decencies  of  life.  "They  had 
been  fighting  Indians  [Asbury  said]  till  it  made  them 
cruel,  and  then  the  only  preaching  they  heard  was 
the  hyper-Calvinism  of  Antlnomians.  Good  moral- 
ists they  are  not,  and  good  Christians  they  cannot 
be  till  they  are  better  taught." 


114  FUyiNCIS  As  BURY, 

He  preached  in  Morgantov^^n,  and  after  riding  for 
two  days  reached  Uniontown,  Pennsylvania,  where 
the  Conference  met. 

The  journey  he  had  made  from  North  Carolina  to 
Pennsylvania  had  led  him  almost  entirely  through 
the  frontier  settlements,  and  much  of  it  through 
wild  mountains,  many  of  which  at  the  present  time 
are  as  wild  as  they  were  when  he  passed  through 
them.  The  people  were  then  as  wild  as  the  mount- 
ains, and  the  preachers  he  had  sent  out  to  evangelize 
them  were  exposed  to  every  trial;  and  he  was  will- 
ing, in  order  to  save  them  from  long  journeys  to  Con- 
ference, to  expose  himself  to  the  fatigue  and  priva- 
tion of  this  weary  tour. 

Eichard  Whatcoat  was  his  traveling  companion, 
and  the  journey  had  made  both  ill.  They,  however, 
returned  to  Virginia,  and  stopped  a  little  while  at 
Bath.  There  he  tried  to  preach  a  sermon  on  "The 
Lame  and  Blind."  "The  discourse,"  he  said,  "was 
lame,  and  the  people  w^ere  blind.'' 

The  college,  so  unwisely  begun,  had  given  him  al- 
most as  much  care  as  Kingswood  School  gave  Mr. 
Wesley,  and  now  at  Bath  he  heard  that  both  the 
teachers  were  gone. 

During  this  journey,  rough  as  it  was,  he  had  been 
busy  reading  Mosheim,  a  book  which  one  would  not 
likely  take  for  reading  on  the  wing.  He  went  from 
Bath  to  Baltimore,  where  he  met  the  Maryland 
preachers  in  September,  1788.  The  view  he  gives 
of  the  Conference  is  a  pleasing  one.  The  old  Light- 
street  church  was  now  completed,  and  Conference 
met  in  it.  The  Dutch  church  of  Mr.  Otterbein  was 
also  at  the  service  of  the  Conference.  There  began 
on  Sunday  a  gracious  revival,  and  sinners  cried  for 


Francis  As  bury.  115 

mercy,  and  perhaps  twenty  souls  were  converted  be- 
fore the  meeting  closed  on  Tuesday.  The  puzzling 
college  atlairs  were  settled  as  best  they  could  be,  and 
he  began  his  northward  journey  again. 

In  three  days  he  was  in  Philadelphia,  and  the  Con- 
ference for  the  eastern  part  of  Pennsylvania  and 
New  Jersey  was  attended  to,  and  he  began  his  move 
southward.  On  the  eastern  shore  of  Maryland  and 
Virginia,  and  through  Delaware,  he  preached  in 
great  feebleness  and  weariness,  but  with  great 
power  apd  earnestness,  finding  a  gracious  revival  in- 
fluence wherever  he  went.  He  was  troubled  about 
college  debts,  but  his  friends  helped  him  out,  and, 
visiting  Cokesbury,  he  tried  to  put  things  in  order  in 
the  college,  and  then  rode  through  the  western 
shore  of  Maryland  into  Virginia,  and  by  his  old 
route  to  Charleston,  South  Carolina,  once  more. 


CHAPTER  XYII. 

1789. 

Mr.  Wesley's  Famous  Letter  and  the  Council — Georgia — Daniel 
Grant — Wesley  and  Whitefield  School — Mr.  Wesley's  Letter 
— North  Carolina — The  Council. 

BISHOP  ASBURY  had  perhaps  delayed  his  com- 
ing to  the  south  in  1789  because  he  expected  to 
meet  Dr.  Coke  in  Charleston;  but  when  he 'reached 
there  Coke  had  not  arrived,  and  a  few  days  after  Ik? 
began  his  journey  to  Georgia.  He  had  gone  onl}'^  a 
short  distance,  however,  before  Coke  joined  him. 
He  had  reached  Charleston  a  few  hours  after  Asbury 
left.  They  crossed  the  Savannah  River  at  Sand-bar 
Ferry  and  rode  on  by  the  old  road  to  Washington 
and  to  Grant's,  where  the  Conference  was  to  bo 
held. 

Daniel  Grant  was  the  descendant  of  an  old  Scotch 
family.  He  was  a  man  of  good  culture  for  those 
times,  and  of  profound  piety.  He  had  at  one  time 
been  a  Presbyterian  elder  in  Hanover  county,  Vir- 
ginia, in  the  church  of  Samuel  Davies,  and  after- 
wards lived  in  Granville  county,  North  Carolina, 
where  he  had  been  an  elder  in  the  Grassy  Creek 
church.  Thence  he  had  removed  to  Georgia.  When 
he  heard  the  Methodists,  he  invited  them  to  his 
house  to  preach,  and  finally  joined  them  and  built  a 
church,  the  first  Methodist  church  in  Georgia.  .His 
son,  Thomas,  had  become  a  member  of  the  Church 
also,  and  lived  near  him.  They  carried  on  a  large 
mercantile   business  at   Grant's   Store,  in   Wilkes 

(iifi) 


Francis  As  bury.  117 

county,  aud  being  well  off  in  the  world's  goods,  they 
were  able  to  dispense  a  generous  hospitality.  The 
Conference  met  at  their  house  and  held  its  sessions 
in  the  church  near  by.  Mr.  Asbury  ajjproved  the 
scheme  which  some  of  the  preachers  had  made  for  a 
Methodist  school  in  Georgia.  This  was  to  be  called 
the  Wesley  and  Whiteheld  School,  and  the  scheme 
was  to  buy  five  hundred  acres  of  land  and  establish 
the  school  and  get  donations  of  land  for  its  endow- 
ment. Bishop  Coke,  who  was  with  Asbury,  second- 
ed the  idea  with  great  heartiness,  and  a  subscription 
was  started.  The  subscriptions  were  to  be  paid  in 
cattle  or  land  or  tobacco  or  money.  In  the  county 
of  Wilkes  there  v/ere,  besides  Grant's,  Meriwether's 
and  Scott's  meetinghouses  which  Asbury  mentions. 
David  Meriwether  had  become  a  Methodist.  He  be- 
longed to  a  distinguished  and  wealthy  Virginia  fam- 
ily who  had  been,  as  far  as  they  were  anything, 
Church-of-England  people;  he  w^as  the  first  Metho- 
dist among  them.  The  bishops  had,  however,  no 
time  for  a  tour  through  Georgia,  and  pressed  on  to 
Routh  Carolina.  They  rode  the  two  hundred  miles 
to  Charleston  in  four  days. 

Here  Asbury  received  a  letter  from  Mr. Wesley,  the 
last  he  ever  had  from  his  pen.  He  says  of  it:  "Here 
I  received  a  bitter  pill  from  one  of  my  greatest 
friends.  Praise  the  Lord  for  my  trials  also!  May 
they  be  sanctified."  This  letter  has  been  often  pa- 
raded by  those  who  had  little  love  for  Mr.  Wesley  as 
a  means  of  rebuking  the  pretensions  of  those  for 
whom  they  had  still  less.  It  was  written  by  an  old 
man  eighty-six  years  old,  and  w^ritten  to  one  whom 
he  regarded  almost  as  his  child.  It  can  only  be  ex- 
cused because  of  this  fact.     The  charge  that  As- 


118  Francis  As  bury. 

bury  was  striving  to  make  himself  great,  because 
be  strove  to  keep  himself  from  being  ridiculous,  was 
only  to  be  passed  by  since  a  somewhat  childish  old 
man  made  it.  If  Mr.  Wesley  had  not  designed  to 
make  Mr.  Asbury  a  bishop,  what  had  he  designed? 
If  he  had  not  believed  he  was  an  episcopos  himself, 
why  had  he  acted  as  one?  Perhaps  next  to  God, 
Asbury  venerated  Mr.  Wesley,  and  yet  he  had  been 
misread  by  him  time  and  again.  We,  however,  give 
the  letter  just  as  it  was : 

London,  September  20,  1788. 

There  is,  indeed,  a  wide  difference  between  tlie  relations 
wherein  you  stand  to  the  Americans  and  the  relations  where- 
in I  stand  to  all  Methodists.  You  are  the  elder  brother  of 
the  American  Methodists:  I  am,  under  God,  the  father  of  the 
whole  family.  Therefore,  I  naturally  care  for  you  all  in  a 
manner  no  other  person  can  do.  Therefore,  I,  in  a  measure, 
provide  for  you  all ;  for  the  supplies  which  Dr.  Coke  provides 
for  you,  he  could  not  provide  were  it  not  for  me — were  it  not 
that  I  not  only  permit  him  to  collect,  but  also  support  him  in 
so  doing.  But  in  one  point,  my  dear  brother,  I  am  a  little 
afraid  both  the  doctor  and  you  differ  from  me.  I  study  to  be 
little;  you  study  to  be  great.  I  creep;  you  strut  along.  I 
found  a  school;  you  a  college!  Nay, and  call  it  after  your  own 
names!  O,  beware!  Do  not  seek  to  be  something!  Let  me 
be  nothing,  and  "Christ  be  all  in  all!" 

One  instance  of  this,  of  your  greatness,  has  given  me  great 
concern.  How  can  you,  how  dare  you,  suffer  yourself  to  be 
called  bishop?  I  shudder,  I  start  at  the  very  thought!  Men 
may  call  me  a  knave  or  a  fool,  a  rascal,  a  scoundrel,  and  I  am 
content;  but  they  shall  never, by  my  consent,  call  me  a  hislwp. 
For  my  sake,  for  God's  sake,  for  Christ's  sake,  put  a  full  end 
to  this!  Let  the  Presbyterians  do  what  they  please,  but  let 
the  Methodists  know  their  calling  better.  Thus,  my  dear 
Pranky,  I  have  told  you  all  that  is  in  my  heart.  And  let  this, 
when  I  am  no  more  seen,  bear  witness  how  sincerely  I  am 
Your  affectionate  friend  and  brother, 

John  Wesley. 


Francis  Asbuey.  119 

The  letter  pained  liiDi,  but  did  not  cause  liiin  to 
abate  liis  work,  for  as  soon  as  the  Conference  ended 
its  session  he  was  on  his  way  again. 

He  went  northward  to  North  Carolina,  where,  at 
McKnight's,  in  a  month's  time  he  was  to  have  an- 
other Conference,  and  b}^  the  3d  of  April  he  had  rid- 
den three  hundred  miles,  and  the  poor  horses  had 
sutiered  because  of  it.  They  reached  McKnight's  on 
the  Yadkin,  and  the  Holston  brethren  met  with 
them,  and  their  next  stop  was  in  Petersburg  Vir- 
ginia. Asbury  allowed  BishoiJ  Coke  to  do  all  the 
l)reaching.  On  one  Sunda}^,  having  no  appointment, 
they  pushed  on  until  they  reached  Leesburg.  They 
found  a  lively  religious  state  all  along  the  way 
through  Virginia  and  Maryland,  and  when  they 
reached  Baltimore  "  the  meetings  were  very  live- 
ly," he  says,  "and  one  night  the  people  continued 
together  till  three  o'clock  in  the  morning;  many 
have  professed  to  be  convicted,  converted,  sancti- 
fied." 

It  would  be  monotonous  to  follow  him  in  his  wan- 
derings the  remainder  of  this  year.  They  covered 
very  much  the  same  ground  that  he  had  been  over 
before,  and  w^ere  amid  much  the  same  scenes.  His 
heart  was  greatly  cheered  by  the  great  revival 
which  he  found  everywhere,  and  much  to  his  pleas- 
ure there  was  much  noise  in  it.  "Noble  shouting" 
delighted  his  heroic  heart.  He  was  now  trying  to 
raise  money  to  keep  the  needy  at  the  schools  and 
raising  the  first  educational  collection. 

It  had  been  now  nearly  five  years  since  the  Christ- 
mas Conference  which  organized  the  Methodist 
Episcopal  Church  had  held  its  session  and  ad- 
journed, and  there  had  been  no  general  meeting  of 


120  Francis  As  bury, 

the  preachei's.  In  order  to  do  anytliiug  it  was  neces- 
sary to  pass  the  measure  round  among  the  Confer- 
ences, and  the  veto  of  one  could  defeat  the  will  of  the 
rest.  Bishop  Asburj  did  not  see  the  need  of  a  Gen- 
eral Conference,  nor  possibly  of  any  more  legisla- 
tion, but  he  felt  the  need  of  a  general  body  of  advis- 
ers, and  he  proposed  the  formation  of  a  council, 
which  should  be  composed  of  the  men  of  his  choice, 
and  they  were  to  be  invested  with  almost  plenary 
powers.  He  hoped  the  Conferences  would  accede  to 
his  plan,  and  the  council  was  selected  and  called  to- 
gether. They  were  among  the  best  men  he  had,  and 
he  thought  the  plan  would  be  eminently  satisfactory 
to  his  brethren;  and  he  was  now  hurrying  to  Balti- 
more to  be  at  the  first  session  of  this  celebrated  and 
shortlived  council. 

Bishop  Asbury  says,  December  G,  1781):  ''Our 
council  was  seated,  consisting  of  the  following  per- 
sons, namely:  liichard  Ivey,  from  Georgia;  K.  Ellis, 
E.  Morris,  Phil  Bruce,  James  O'Kelly,  L.  Green,  Nel- 
son Reed,  J.  Everett,  John  Dickins,  J.  O.  Cromwell, 
Freeborn  Garrettson.  All  our  business  was  done  in 
love  and  unanimity."  He  was  highly  pleased  with 
the  result  of  his  experiment,  and  he  had  certainly 
shown  good  judgment  in  the  selection  of  the  con- 
clave. 

This  was  the  beginning  of  the  council.  The  legal- 
izing of  this  conclave  and  defining  its  powers  were 
dependent  upon  what  the  Conferences  would  say. 
There  was  little  question  in  the  mind  of  Bishop 
Asbury  that  the  plan  he  had  devised  would  be  ac- 
cepted, but  he  heard  the  mutterings  of  the  storm  be- 
fore the  council  had  adjourned  its  session  many 
weeks.     That  dear  man,  James  O'Kellv,  who  had  ris- 


Fbaxcis  As  bub  y.  121 

en  from  his  bed  at  miduigiit  to  pray  for  Asbury  wlien 
I  he  J  first  met,  aud  who  had  been  made  a  member  of 
the  eouncii,  did  not  like  the  trend  of  things;  and  As 
bury  says  on  the  12th  of  January,  1700:  ''I  received  a 
letter  from  the  presiding  elder  of  this  district,  James 
O'Kelly.     He  makes  heavy  complaints  of  my  power, 
and  bids  me  stop  for  one  year  or  he  must  use  his  in- 
lluence  against  me.     Power!  power  I  there  is  not  a 
vote  given  in  a  Conference  in  which  the  presiding 
eider  has  not  greatly  the  advantage  of  me.     All  the 
influence  I  am  to  gain  over  a  company  of  young  men 
in   a   district  must  be  done  in  three  weeks.     The 
greater  part  of  them  are  perhaps  seen  by  me  alone 
at  Conference,  while  the  presiding  elder  has  been 
with  them  all  the  year  and  has  the  greatest  opportu- 
nity of  gaining  influence.     This  advantage  may  be 
abused.     Let  the  bishops  look  to  it.     But  who  has 
the  power  to  lay  an  embargo  on  me  and  to  make  of 
none  effect  the  decision  of  all  the  Conferences  of  the 
union?"      The  battle  vras  now  on.      O'Kelly  wrote 
Coke  and  presented  his  side  of  the  case,  and  in  the 
meantime  Asbury  used  his  personal  influence  to  se- 
cure the  indorsement  of  the  Conferences.     When  the 
council  met  in  Philip  Rogers's  house  it  coolly  re- 
solved that  "it  had  the  right  to  manage  the  temporal 
concerns  of  the  Church  and  college  decisively,  and 
to  recommend  to  the  Conferences  for  ratification 
whatever  we  judged  might  be  advantageous  to  the 
spiritual  well-being  of  the  whole  body."     This  was 
certainly  a  rather  sweeping  proposition  from  a  body 
whose  hold  on  life  was  so  frail,  but  at  the  Ylrginia 
Conference  it  received  its  deathblow,  and  the  Gen- 
eral Conference  was  called  for,  to  meet  in  Balti- 
more in  1702. 


122  Francis  Asduey. 

1  have  preferred  to  iuterruijt  the  current  of  the 
Btory  and  give  the  whole  history  of  this  matter  as 
Asburj's  journal  gives  it.  He  had  conceived  the 
idea  of  the  council  and  had  selected  the  best  men  of 
the  Church  to  form  it,  but  he  says  comparatively 
little  about  it,  and  the  general  minutes  make  no  men- 
tion at  all  of  its  origin,  its  beginning,  or  of  its  ending. 
The  various  Church  histories  give  its  history  in  ex- 
tenso.  It  no  doubt  originated  Vv^ith  Bishop  Asbury, 
and  was  designed  to  supersede  the  necessity  for  the 
calling  of  a  General  Conference.  Mr.  Asbury  did 
not  have  great  confidence  in  the  vojo  popiili  even 
among  the  preachers.  He  thought  he  knew  best 
what  ought  to  be  done,  and  while  he  was  not  unwill- 
ing to  take  advice  if  he  thought  it  good,  he  w^as  anx- 
ious to  select  those  whose  duty  it  would  be  to  give 
it.  The  council  was  well  designed,  but  it  had  in  it 
the  seeds  of  death,  and  it  had  but  two  unsatisfactory 
sessions.  In  order  to  meet  the  convenience  of  the 
l^reachers,  they  had  been  acting  by  sections;  but  so 
jealous  Vv^ere  the^^  of  their  rights  that  no  act  was 
obligatory  on  any  until  all  of  them  had  had  an  op- 
portunity to  vote  and  speak  upon  it,  and  the 
negative  of  one  Conference  defeated  the  measure. 
The  council  was  composed  of  the  best  men  in  the 
connection  whom  Mr.  Asbury  could  select,  but  it 
Y^^as  after  all  Mr.  Asbury's  voice  which  was  heard. 
He  himself  was  much  pleased  at  the  results  of 
its  two  sessions,  and  much  disappointed  when  it 
failed. 

The  council  adjourned  in  the  early  part  of  Decem- 
ber, and  with  Richard  Whatcoat  as  a  companion  As- 
bury began  his  journey  to  the  south,  and  at  the  end 
of  the  year  1789  he  found  himself  in  Gloucester,  Vir- 


Fjiancis  As  bury,  123 

oiuia.  This  part  of  the  tide-water  country  was  at 
Ihat  time  the  wealthiest  section  of  that  then  wealthy 
state,  and  here  Methodism  had  made  an  impression 
upon  the  leading  people,  and  he  was  accustomed  to 
pay  them  an  annual  visit. 

He  was  now  hurrying  to  the  south,  that  he  might 
meet  the  South  Carolina  Conference,  which  was  to 
meet  in  Charleston  in  February. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

1790. 

Over  the  Continent — North  Carolina — Charleston — Georgia — 
Western  North  Carolina — Over  the  Mountains — General  Rus- 
sell's— Kentucky — Virginia — Pennsylvania — Cokesbury. 

THE  beginning  of  1790  found  Asbun^  in  the  cen- 
ter of  the  tide-water  countiT  in  Virginia,  has- 
tening as  rapidly  as  possible  tovvard  the  south.  Tlie 
rivers  were  crossed  with  great  difficulty,  and  he  had 
the  Potomac,  the  James,  and  the  Ronoake  to  cross 
near  their  mouths.  The  cost  for  ferriage  alone,  he 
says,  was  £3.  He  passed  through  the  section  in 
which  James  O'Kelly  had  long  exerted  great  influ- 
ence, and  it  was  on  this  journey  that  O'Kelly  made 
the  complaint  alluded  to  in  our  last  chapter.  Aft- 
er crossing  the  Roanoke  River  into  North  Carolina, 
he  rode  westward  through  the  then  thickl^^-settied 
counties  of  central  North  Carolina.  The  journey 
was  free  from  incident,  and  by  the  10th  of  February 
he  w^as  in  Charleston  once  more,  where  he  met  the 
South  Carolina  Conference. 

This  Conference,  which  did  not  at  that  time  in- 
clude Georgia,  was  a  small  body,  and  after  a  short 
session  the  good  bishop  rode  on  his  way  to  Georgia, 
and  entering  it  near  Augusta  he  preached  at  Old 
Church  in  Burke  county,  which  is  still  an  appoint- 
ment in  the  Burke  Circuit,  and  at  a  church  near 
Fenn's  Bridge  in  Jefferson  county.  He  was  now  mak- 
ing search  for  a  section  of  land  on  which  to  locate  the 
Wesley  and  Whitefield  school.  The  land  he  exam- 
(124)   • 


Francis  As  bury,  125 

ined  did  not  suit  him,  and  the  purchase  was  not 
made.  He  met  the  Conference  of  Georgia  preachers 
again  at  Grant's,  and  after  a  short  session  he  began 
his  journey  northward.  On  his  way  he  rested  at  a 
brother  Herbert's,  in  Elbert  county,  where  the  saint- 
ly Major  had  passed  away.  Asbury  said  that  a  poor 
sinner  was  struck  with  conviction  at  the  grave  of 
this  weeping  prophet,  whose  voice  he  heard  calling 
him  to  repentance.  John  Andrew,  the  father  of 
James  O.  Andrew,  was  on  the  circuit  at  this  time, 
and  Asbury  says  he  heard  of  a  woman  who  sent  for 
him  to  preach  her  funeral  sermon  while  she  was  liv- 
ing. The  quaint  preacher  did  so,  and  she  was 
blessed  under  the  word  and  died  in  peace. 

With  a  rapid  ride  he  came  ini.o  western  North  Car- 
olina. Here  he  was  taken  with  a  disorder  that 
proved  fatal  to  his  grandfather,  and  he  was  serious 
and  despondent.  Death,  he  thought,  was  not  far 
away,  and  he  says  somewhat  innocently:  '^I  could 
give  up  the  Church,  the  colleges,  and  the  schools; 
nevertheless  there  is  one  drawback.  What  will  my 
enemies  and  mistaken  friends  say?  Why,  that  'he 
hath  offended  the  Lord,  and  he  hath  taken  him 
away.' "  He  was  on  his  way  to  Kentucky,  and  the 
journey  was  made  by  crossing  the  mountains  into 
Johnson  county,  Tennessee,  across  the  head  waters 
of  the  Watauga  and  the  Holsfon.  The  house  in 
which  they  slept  was  without  a  cover;  the  wolves 
howled,  and  rain  fell  in  torrents.  They  crossed  the 
mountain  in  the  rain,  and  while  the  good  bishop 
was  looking  for  the  guide  he  was  carried  with  full 
force  against  a  tree,  but  with  no  serious  damage.  To 
add  to  his  misfortunes,  when  they  reached  the  Hol- 
ston  country  they  turned  the  horses  out  to  graze, 


126  Francis  As  bury. 

and  they  could  not  find  them.  They  had  either  been 
stolen  by  the  Indians  or  stra}  ed  afar.  At  last  the 
estrays  were  recovered,  and  he  pursued  the  same 
course  he  had  taken  on  his  first  journey  to  the  Hol- 
ston  country,  going  from  North  Carolina  into  Ten- 
nessee, and  thence  to  his  friend  General  Russell's, 
where  there  was  a  little  time  to  rest  and  prepare  for 
the  dangerous  journey  to  Kentucky.  The  Indians 
had  been  on  the  war  path,  and  there  was  constant 
danger  from  them.  The  road  was  dreary  and  he 
was  sick,  but  the  untiring  man  pressed  on.  Peter 
Massie  and  John  Clark,  from  Kentucky,  met  him, 
and  then  the  footsteps  of  the  sick  man  were  turned 
toward  Kentucky.  They  came  into  Kentucky  from 
Tennessee,  traveling  ^long  the  north  branch  of  the 
Holston  and  the  Clinch,  and  through  the  wilds  across 
the  Kentucky  River,  until  at  length  they  reached  the 
settlement  at  Lexington.  When  he  returned  he 
came  by  the  Crab  Orchard  and  by  Cumberland  Gap, 
and  back  again  to  General  Russell's.  He  novv^  made 
his  way  as  rapidly  as  possible  to  McKnight's,  on  the 
Yadkin,  where  the  Conference  had  been  awaiting  his 
coming  for  two  weeks.  There  was  no  rest  for  him. 
The  Conference  here  was  no  sooner  over  than  he 
pressed  on  to  Petersburg,  in  Virginia,  where  he  met 
the  Virginia  Conference,  and  where  he  had  the  trou- 
ble he  looked  for  ab(5ut  the  council. 

Although  the  year  was  only  half  gone,  he  had  al- 
ready crossed  the  Alleghanies  and  the  other  ranges 
of  the  great  Appalachian  chain  four  times,  but  was 
to  climb  them  again  before  the  year  ended;  for  after 
leaving  Petersburg  he  made  the  same  journey 
through  Botetourt  and  Greenbrier  to  Uniontown, 
Pennsylvania,  by  the  route  of  which  v/e  have  given 


Francis  As  bury,  127 

account  in  our  last  chapter.  Then  the  weary  man 
turned  his  face  toward  the  east,  where  the  comforts 
of  an  old  civilization  were  to  be  found.  To  one  who 
had  been  for  long  months  among  the  rocks,  mount- 
ains, rattlesnakes,  fleas,  and  cabins,  the  change  to  ji 
land  of  comfortable  and  often  elegant  homes  must 
have  been  a  relief  as  much  as  a  pleasure.  He  had 
but  little  time  to  tarry  anyv>^here,  and  he  made  a  hur- 
ried journey  through  Maryland,  during  which  time 
he  visited  Cokesbury. 

The  college  was  now  fairly  under  way,  and  there 
were  forty-six  students.  There  were  some  public  ex- 
ercises, evidently  for  his  benefit,  some  philosophical 
lectures  by  the  faculty,  and  in  the  afternoon  the  boys 
declaimed.  Some  parts  of  this  exercise  were  very  ex- 
ceptionable to  the  stern  bishop  who  took  note  of  them. 
The  rules  adopted  were  revised.  Impracticable  be- 
fore, they  were  doubtless  more  so  afterwards. 

Asbury  presided  over  the  Philadelphia  Conference 
in  September  and  the  Nev/  York  Conference  in  Octo- 
ber. Then  he  journeyed  through  Chester,  where  he 
found  that  the  good  widow  Withey,  who  kept  the 
best  inn  on  the  continent  and  always  entertained  the 
preachers,  was  feeble  in  body  and  depressed  in  mind; 
from  wiiich  depression,  one  is  glad  to  know,  the  good 
Mary  made  a  happy  recovery.  He  came  through  the 
eastern  shore  of  Delaware  and  Maryland,  the  bright 
est  spot  to  him  in  all  the  land,  and  finally  reached 
Baltimore  in  December,  where  the  council  met  at  his 
friend  Philip  Rogers's,  and  had  its  second  and  last 
session.  He  ended  the  year  of  immense  labor  in  the 
heart  of  Virginia,  having  made  a  circuit  that  extend 
ed  from  New  York  and  the  Atlantic  on  the  north  and 
east  to  the  remotest  points  on  the  western  frontier. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

1191. 

Arminian  Magazine — Coke's  Arrival  in  Charleston — William 
Hammett — Georgia  Conference — Virginia — Wesley's  Death 
— Coke's  Return  to  England— Jesse  Lee — Xew  England — As- 
bury's  Visit. 

DURING  the  year  1790  the  second  volume  of  the 
Arminian  Magazine  had  been  issued.  It  was 
almost  an  exact  reproduction  of  the  Arminian  Maga- 
zine in  England,  and  seems  to  us  of  this  day  a  some- 
what dull  and  dreary  volume,  filled  with  the  inter- 
minable discussions  of  Calvinistic  errors.  Asbury 
says  he  finished  reading  the  second  volume,  and  not- 
withstanding its  defects  it  was  one  of  the  best  and 
cheapest  books  in  America.  He  says  the  poetry 
might  be  better,  and  no  one  will  be  likely  to  contro- 
vert him. 

The  route  that  Asbury  took  to  reach  Charlestoii 
was  the  same  he  had  traveled  before.  He  found, 
however,  much  to  his  gratification,  that  Methodism 
iwas  securing  a  stronger  foothold  in  all  this  tide- 
water country.  The  journey,  always  a  disagreeable 
one  in  v>inter,  at  last  ended  in  Charleston. 

An  entry  in  the  journal  shows  that  Asbury  still 
used  the  Church  service  provided  by  V^esley  in  1781. 
He  says:  "1  read  prayers,  after  which  brother  Ellis 
preached." 

The  young  preachers  in  Georgia  were  now  engaged 
in  a  controversy.  History  does  not  say  with  whom, 
but  likely  with  the  Baptists,  then  beginning  a  very 
(128) 


Francis  As  bury.  129 

aggressive  campaign  under  Silas  Mercer,  and  the 
Calvinistic  Presbyterians.  Asbury  objected  serious- 
ly to  it,  and  said  we  had  better  work  to  do. 

The  indefatigable  Dr.  Coke,  at  Mr.  Wesley's  in- 
stance, had  come  by  the  West  Indies  to  South  Caro- 
lina. Near  Charleston  he  had  been  wrecked  on 
Edisto  Island,  but  he  made  his  way  to  Charleston, 
and  brought  with  him  William  Hammett,  a  young 
Irishman,  who  afterwards  gave  Asbury  a  world  of 
trouble.  The  people  were  anxious  to  have  the  gifted 
Irishman  appointed  as  their  preacher;  but  it  was  a 
thing  unheard  of  among  the  Methodists  that  the  peo- 
ple should  choose  their  own  preacher,  and  so  Mr.  As- 
bury sent  Ellis  and  Parks  instead,  much  to  the  dis- 
satisfaction of  the  people,  and  as  much  to  the  dissat- 
isfaction of  Mr.  Hammett.  After  the  Conference  in 
Charleston  was  over,  P>ishop  Coke  took  one  route 
and  Bishop  Asbury  another  to  unite  at  Scott's,  in 
Wilkes  county,  where  the  Conference  was  to  be  held. 
It  is  evident  that  XIlq  meeting  between  the  two  bish- 
ops was  not  very  cordial,  and  that  their  relations  were 
somewhat  strained.  Dr.  Coke  had  evidently  been  in 
correspondence  with  O'Kelly,  and  he  had  come  to 
America,  possibly  after  consultation  with  Mr.  Wes- 
ley, to  put  a  speedy  end  to  the  council.  The  good 
bishops  came  to  an  understanding,  however,  and  de- 
cided that  the  council  was  to  be  among  the  things  of 
the  past,  and  that  a  General  Conference  was  to  be 
called. 

Asbury  made  his  way  to  Georgia  by  going  through 
Beaufort  and  Barnwell,  S.  0.,  and  into  Burke  county 
in  Georgia.  When  in  Waynesboro  he  spent  a  night 
with  an  intelligent  Jew,  Henry  by  name,  who  joined 
with  him  in  readiii.^  tJie  Hebrew  Bible  till  late  in  the 
9 


130  Francis  Asbury. 

night.  The  people  in  the  very  insignificant  village 
of  Waynesboro,  as  it  was  then,  jjaid  little  heed  to  the 
earnest  bishop  when  he  tried  to  gather  them  into  the 
courthouse  for  service,  and  he  says :  "'  Catch  me  here 
again  till  things  are  changed  and  mended." 

The  Conference  met  at  Scott's,  a  church  in  Wilkes 
county,  and  Asbury  and  Coke  were  both  present. 
Matters  in  Georgia  were  not  prosperous  as  far  as  re- 
ligion was  concerned.  Everything  was  in  a  bustle, 
the  new  lands  were  being  settled,  emigrants  were 
crowding  into  the  new  state,  negroes  were  now  being 
hurried  into  the  newly-settled  country  by  the  Old 
and  New  England  slave  dealers,  since  the  slave  trade 
w^as  to  end  in  a  few  years,  and  nothing  was  favorable 
to  religion.  Decline  had  begun,  and  decline  contin- 
ued for  several  weary,  gloomy  years.  As  the  two 
bishops  passed  on  their  way  northward  through 
South  Carolina,  they  preached  to  the  Catawba  In- 
dians who  were  still  there.  They  made  their  way  to 
McKnight's  on  the  Yadkin,  and  thence  through  the 
middle  of  Virginia  to  Petersburg,  where  the  Virginia 
Conference  was  to  meet.  Here  a  crumb  of  comfort 
was  given  to  those  who  were  so  displeased  with  the 
condition  of  things,  and  they  were  now  assured  that 
the  council  should  meet  no  more,  and  the  General 
Conference  should  meet  during  the  next  year. 

It  was  on  this  tour  that  the  tidings  reached  them 
that  the  good  Wesley  was  dead.  It  was  high  time 
that  his  trusted  lieutenant,  Dr.  Coke,  should  set  off 
for  England,  and  so  the  two  bishops  hurried  to  the 
first  seaport  where  shipping  could  be  secured. 
While  they  were  in  Baltimore,  Dr.  Coke  was  re- 
quested to  preach  a  memorial  sermon.  The  little 
doctor  w^as  never  discreet,  and  he  wounded  his  breth- 


Francis  Asbuhy,  131 

ren  deeply  by  telling  them  that  the  good  Wesley's 
death  was  no  doubt  hastened  by  their  leaving  his 
name  off  the  minutes  and  repealing  the  celebrated 
resolution.  As  Mr.  Wesley  was  eighty-eight  years 
old,  and  had  outlived  all  the  male  members  of  his 
family,  it  is  hardly  likely  that  the  conjecture  of  the 
good  doctor  was  correct. 

Coke  was  needed  in  England,  where  things  were 
in  much  of  a  chaos,  despite  the  chancery  bill  with  its 
legal  hundred,  and  so  he  left  Mr.  Asbury  alone  and 
hurried  home. 

The  Charleston  people  had  been  much  charmed  by 
the  fervid  Irishman  Dr.  Coke  had  brought  with  him, 
and  wanted  him  as  their  preacher;  and  not  satisfied 
with  Mr.  Asbury's  first  refusal',  they  sent  Mr.  Ham- 
mett  himself  with  a  petition  all  the  way  to  Philadel- 
phia only  to  have  their  labor  for  their  trouble,  for 
Mr.  Asbury  refused  them  again.  Mr.  Hammett  was, 
hov/ever,  put  up  to  preach  in  New  York  and  riiiladel- 
phia,  which  preaching  was  less  acceptable  to  the 
people  than  it  had  been  to  those  in  Charleston. 

The  bishop  now  presided  over  the  New  York  Con- 
ference, which  then  included  New  England,  and 
made  ready  for  his  first  trip  to  New  England. 

When  Asbury  was  on  his  first  southern  tour, 
in  company  with  Jesse  Lee  and  Henry  Willis,  he 
passed  through  Cheraw,  South  Carolina,  and  Lee 
was  thrown  in  company  with  a  young  New  En- 
glander.  The  New  Englander  told  the  companion- 
able Virginian  what  was  to  him  a  doleful  story  of 
the  religious  destitution  in  New  England.  A  land 
where  the  people  were  all  Calvinists — where  there 
were  no  class  meetings  and  love  feasts,  where  no- 
body ever  shouted  in  meeting — was  a  land  demand- 


132  Francis  As  bury. 

ing  missionary  care,  and  the  young  man  was  anxious 
to  go  tiiere  at  once,  but  Asbury  liad  other  work  for 
him,  and  he  did  not  go  until  five  years  had  passed; 
then  he  went.  He  had  far  from  a  cordial  reception, 
but  he  went  on  his  w^ay  hammering,  as  he  said,  on 
the  Saybroolv  platform,  and  running  a  tilt  against  al- 
most everything  the  good  New  En  glanders  held  dear. 
He  roamed  over  Connecticut,  Rhode  Island,  and 
Massachusetts,  and  at-last  secured  a  foothold  in  sev- 
eral places.  He  was  now^  a  member  of  the  New  York 
Conference,  and  was  appointed  to  the  New  England 
Circuit. 

The  time  had  now  come  for  Asbury  to  visit  New 
England,  and  after  the  close  of  the  New  York  Con- 
ference he,  in  company  with  Jesse  Lee,  turned  his 
face  toward  the  land  -of  the  Presb3'terlans,  as  he 
called  the  Congregationalists.  New  England  had 
been  settled  for  nearly  one  hundred  and  seventy-five 
years,  and  certainly  did  seem  to  need  missionaries 
as  little  as  any  part  of  America.  It  was  the  land  of 
steady  habits  and  stalwart  theology.  As  yet  the 
Unitarian  had  not  dared  to  promulgate  his  views, 
and  was  not  bold  enough  to  attack  the  orthodox 
faith.  Arminianism,  which  had  been  so  dreaded  in 
the  days  of  Jonathan  Edwards  fifty  years  before 
that  a  great  revival  had  resulted  from  prayers  to 
avert  the  heresy,  had  only  nov/  come  with  the 
stalwart,  unceremonious,  irreverent  Lee.  The  New 
England  legislatures  still  levied  a  tax  to  support  the 
standing  order.  The  morals  of  the  people  were  un- 
exceptionable, and  their  customs  were  in  strict  accord 
with  the  best  iDuritanic  models. 

Mr.  Asbury  had  been  twenty  years  in  America  be- 
fore he  put  foot  in  New  England,  and  now  he  began 


Francis  As  bury.  133 

his  tour  by  entering  Connecticut.  It  is  not  probable 
that  he  expected  a  cordial  reception,  and  he  certain- 
ly did  not  have  it.  It  was,  however,  not  likely  that 
when  the  strong,  portly  Lee  and  his  delicate  com- 
panion came  into  a  quiet  New  England  town  and  be- 
gan a  service  they  would  fail  to  draw  attention  to 
themselves;  and  if  they  did  not  please  the  people, 
they  certainly  interested  them.  Sometimes  they 
found  a  church  open,  and  sometimes  the  selectmen 
allowed  them  a  house  to  preach  in,  but  often  they 
were  homeless. 

The  larger  part  of  the  country  in  which  Asbury 
had  been  at  work  for  all  these  years,  and  especially 
since  he  had  been  bishop,  was  a  country  of  broad 
acres  and  scattered  people.  Much  of  it  was  new, 
and  the  houses  were  uncomely  cabins,  but  now 
he  found  himself  where  he  was  never  out  of  sight 
of  a  neat  house,  and  rarely  out  of  sight  of  a  church. 
The  country  reminded  him  of  Derbyshire  in  En- 
gland. The  people  to  whom  he  had  been  preach- 
ing were  generally  sinners  outright.  They  did  not 
claim  to  be  Christians,  and  were  not  formalists; 
but  now  he  found  himself  where  Church  mem- 
bership was  expected  from  all  respectable  people. 
He  came  to  his  conclusion  as  to  the  religious  condi- 
tion of  the  states,  one  would  think,  somewhat  pre- 
cipitately, since  he  made  up  his  verdict  in  less  than 
forty-eight  hours  after  he  reached  Connecticut.  He 
thought  ''there  had  been  religion  there  once,  but 
doubted  if  there  was  much  left.  There  had  doubt- 
less been  a  praying  ministry  and  membership,  but  he 
thought  now  both  were  dead."  Perhaps  the  good 
bishop  saw  through  brother  Lee's  spectacles.  The 
churches  were,  of  course,  generally  closed  against 


134  Francis  As  bury, 

him;  but  the  barns  were  open,  and  he  preached  his 
first  sermon  in  a  barn.  The  effect  of  his  preachiuj^- 
was  very  decided.  Some  smiled,  some  wept;  some 
laughed  outright,  and  some  swore.  He  and  his  com- 
panion came  to  New  Haven^,  where  Yale  College, 
with  President  Stiles,  was.  It  Y^^as  a  somewhat  ven- 
turesome step,  and  they  found  no  church  to  receive 
them.  Asburj  preached  what  he  evidently  thought 
was  a  poor  sermon,  with  the  sun  shining  in  his  face. 

The  next  day  they  visited  Yale  College,  but  the 
visitors  received  scant  courtesy.  Little  did  Presi- 
dent Stiles  and  his  faculty  know  that  one  of  his  vis- 
itors controlled  a  college  himself,  or  he  might  have 
been  more  courteous.  Asbur^^  was  not  unmindful  of 
the  rudeness,  and  promised  himself  that  if  they  came 
to  Cokesbury  he  would  treat  them  in  a  more  gen- 
tlemanly way.  Well,  perhaps  there  was  much  to  be 
said  on  the  other  side.  If  ever  men  appeared  to  be 
impudent  intruders  on  the  domain  of  others,  Asbury 
and  Lee  so  appeared  to  President  Stiles  and  his  asso- 
ciates. To  intimate  that  anything  more  was  needed 
than  Y^ale  was  doing  might  have  come  with  some 
grace  from  some  people,  but  from  these  unlearned, 
fanatical  men  it  was  the  height  of  absurdity;  and 
then,  too,  that  Arminians  and  prelatists  should  come 
on  a  mission  to  New  England  was  both  impudent  and 
presumptuous. 

The  bishop  and  his  companion  went  on  a  tour 
through  PJiode  Island.  They  found  sundry  churches 
at  Providence  and  Newport,  but  met  a  chilling  re- 
ception-in  both  cities;  and  after  a  hasty  ride  through 
the  country,  they  reached  Boston.  It  then  had  in  its 
borders  nine  Congregational  churches,  one  Quaker 
meeting-house,  one  Sandemanian,  one  Roman  Catho- 


Francis  As  bury.  135 

lie, one  Universalistjand  two  Episcopal.  The  cliuueli 
of  Mr.  Murray  was  opened  to  them,  but  the  hospital- 
ity the  visitors  received  was  limited.  Asbury  said 
even  in  wicked  Charleston  he  was  invited  to  sundry 
homes,  but  now  no  one  opened  his  door  to  him.  His 
congregations,  too,  were  very  small ;  at  first  not  more 
than  twenty-six  in  a  large  church  came  to  hear  him. 
He  decided  that  he  had  done  with  Boston  until  he 
could  get  a  house  to  preach  in  and  some  one  to  enter- 
tain him,  and  made  his  way  to  Lynn.  Here  Meth- 
odism had  made  an  impression  and  secured  a  foot- 
hold. I-Iere  there  was  a  home  at  least,  and  here  he 
was  able  to  hold  sundry  profitable  services.  He 
went  to  Salem,  "  where  the  witches  were  burned,  and 
sought  the  graves  of  those  whom  the  Puritans  had 
put  to  death  for  their  religion."  There  was  no  place 
here  for  this  weary  evangelist;  although  there  were 
five  churches,  none  was  open  to  him,  and  he  decided 
to  put  Salem  in  the  same  catalogue  with  Boston. 

At  Manchester  Mr.  Foster,  of  honored  memory,  re- 
ceived him  with  great  kindness,  and  the  selectmen 
gave  him  the  courthouse  to  preach  in.  There  was  a 
place  where  provision  was  made  to  entertain  minis- 
ters, and  an  amount  of  money  offered  for  their  serv- 
ices. The  high-spirited  bishop  refused  their  hospi- 
tality and  their  compensation.  He  made  quite  a 
tour  in  Massachusetts,  and  was  much  struck  with 
the  earnest  wish  of  those  with  whom  he  dined  in  a 
certain  place,  who  said  that  the  people  were  now 
united  and  did  not  wish  to  divide  the  parish.  "Their 
fathers,  the  Puritans,  divided  the  kingdom  and 
Church,  too,''  Asbury  said.  After  a  little  longer  stay 
in  Massachusetts  and  Connecticut,  he  reentered  New 
York  and  came  southward. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

1792. 

Eeturns  Southward — Cokesbury  Troubles — Virginia  Conference 
—  North  Carohna  Conference  —  Troubles  in  Charleston  — 
Georgia  Conference — Beverly  Allen's  Expulsion — Tour  to 
Kentucky — Northward  Again. 

IN  the  early  fall  Asbury  returned  from  New  En- 
gland, and,  preaching  as  he  went,  made  his  way 
through  New  York,  New  Jersey,  and  Delaware  to 
Baltimore.  He  was  still  burdened  with  Cokesbury, 
and  when  he  reached  Baltimore  he  trudged  through 
the  snow  begging  money  to  board  and  educate  the 
orphans  who  came  there.  He  was  anxious  to  found 
a  female  school,  and  made  some  plans  looking  in  that 
direction.  With  Thomas  Morrill  he  began  his  jour- 
ney to  the  farther  south,  and  along  his  accustomed 
route  he  made  his  way  to  Green  HilFs  in  North  Car- 
olina. The  journey  was  an  uneventful  one,  but  was 
fatiguing.  The  plan  of  holding  the  Conference  in 
small  sections  was  still  adhered  to,  and  did  not  un- 
dergo any  change  till  the  next  year.  The  Virginia 
Conference  met  at  Dickinson's,  in  Caroline  county, 
and  the  North  Carolina  Conference  at  that  excellent 
local  preacher's  Green  Hill's,  where  it  held  several 
of  its  sessions. 

During  this  tour  he  thought  at  one  time  he  had  se- 
cured the  blessing  of  perfect  love,  and  cautiously  "io 
expressed  himself;  but  a  few  months  afterwards  he 
speaks  in  another  strain.  In  October  he  says :  "I  am 
afraid  of  losing?  the  peace  I  feel;  for  months  past  1 
have  seemed  to  be  in  the  possession  of  perfect  love." 


Fba^cis  Asbuby.  137 

But  he  says  ou  the  21st  of  the  same  month:  "Tempta- 
tions oppressed  mj  soul  and  disease  my  body ;  I  leur 
I  am  not  so  constant  in  prayer  as  I  should  be." 

He  did  not  reach  Charleston  as  soon  as  usual, 
and  January,  1792,  found  him  in  Norfolk,  where  his 
heart  was  gladdened  by  the  evidences  of  a  revival, 
The  North  Carolina  Conference  was  to  meet  early 
the  next  vreek  at  Green  Hill's;  and  though  the 
weather  was  very  cold,  and  his  exposure  very  great, 
he  and  his  companion,  Thomas  Morrill,  pressed  on. 
His  chief  cordial,  he  says,  was  to  preach  at  night; 
and  despite  his  weary  ride,  he  was  always  ready  for 
his  pulpit.  Except  in  Georgetown  and  Charleston, 
he  says  his  congregations  were  generally  good.  It 
was  in  February  before  he  reached  Charleston. 

His  comj)anion  in  this  journey  was  Thomas  Mor- 
rill, who  had  been  an  officer  in  the  Revolutionary 
army,  and  who  was  long  one  of  his  most  trusted  help- 
ers as  w^ell  as  one  of  his  most  intimate  friends.  As- 
bury's  custom  was  alw^ays  to  have  a  traveling  com- 
panion, and  his  companion  generally  found  that 
pleasant  as  it  was  to  be  in  the  bishop's  company  the 
price  paid  for  the  pleasure  was  not  a  small  one. 

We  noted  in  the  last  chapter  the  arrival  in  Charles- 
ton of  the  young  Irishman,  William  Hammett,  and 
his  vain  effort  to  get  the  appointment  of  Parks  and 
Ellis  changed  to  secure  the  position  for  himself. 
Although  Dr.  Coke  had  brought  him  from  the  West 
Indies,  he  seems  to  have  turned  from  him,  much  to 
Hammett's  vexation.  After  failing  in  Philadelphia 
to  ^e:t  Asbury  to  change  his  decision,  he  cam.e  back 
to  Charleston  and  established  an  independent 
church.  This  was  the  first  schism  in  the  societies 
Hammett  was  very  popular  with  many  of  the  Meth- 


138  Francis  As  bury, 

odists  in  Charleston,  and  with  many  who  were 
friends,  although  not  members,  of  society;  and  after 
he  had  preached  in  a  hall  for  some  time,  they  rallied 
to  his  help,  and  built  him  a  neat,  and,  for  the  Meth- 
odists of  that  time,  a  handsome  church,  which  he 
called  Trinity. 

The  disaffection  reached  the  country  round  about, 
and  in  Georgetown  he  had  another  congregation. 
He  was  very  popular  for  a  short  time,  but  only  lived 
a  few  years.  He  was  very  bitter  in  his  denunciati(m 
of  Coke  and  Asbury,  and  never  was  reconciled  to 
them  or  the  connection.  Lorenzo  Dow,  on  a  visit  to 
Charleston  some  3^ears  after  this,  made  an  entry  in 
his  journal  which  was  i^ublished,  in  which  he  said 
Kammett  died  drunk.  Hammett's  son  sued  Lorenzo 
for  libel,  and  he  was  convicted  and  mildly  punished 
for  slandering  the  dead  man.  Some  years  after 
Hammett's  death  the  church  fell  into  the  hands  of 
the  Asburyan  Methodists,  among  whom  it  still  re- 
mains. Asbury  said  Hammett  charged  the  Amer- 
ican preachers  with  having  insulted  him,  and  said 
his  name  had  been  left  off  the  minutes,  and  that  the 
cautioning  minute  was  against  him.  Asbury  not 
only  had  trouble  with  Mr.  Hammett,  but  some  one 
else,  who  he  thinks  was  Mr.  S.,  wrote  him  an  abu- 
sive, anonymous  letter  containing  several  charges; 
and  Mr.  Philip  Matthev»^s  sent  in  his  resignation  as 
a  traveling  preacher  and  withdrew  from  the  connec- 
tion. The  year  opened  as  the  last  had,  in  a  storm, 
but  the  determined  Asbury  never  turned  aside  for  a 
moment.  Immediately  after  the  Conference  closed 
he  turned  his  face  toward  Georgia.  There  was  trou- 
ble here,  as  there  had  been  in  Charleston.  Beverly 
Allen  had  been  a  vvovamevi  figure  in  the  history  of 


Francis  As  bury.  139 

the  early  Church.  He  was  energetic,  gifted,  aud  a 
man  of  good  lineage,  who  had  married  into  an  excel- 
lent famil}-  in  South  Carolina.  He  had  not  worked 
in  good  accord  with  Asbury,  who  always  distrusted 
him.  He  had  become  involved  in  serious  trouble, 
and  when  Asbury,  after  a  fatiguing  journey,  met  the 
Conference  at  Washington,  he  had  the  painful  task 
of  pronouncing  his  expulsion.  There  was  quite  a 
sifting  and  searching,  and  others  were  involved  in 
censure.  When  the  Conference  closed  he  took  Har- 
dy Herbert  and  Hope  Hull  and  began  his  journey 
toward  the  distant  west.  He  aimed  to  reach  Ken- 
tucky, and  with  his  companions  went  through  west- 
ern North  Carolina  directly  to  General  Russell's  in 
southwestern  Virginia.  The  gateway  to  Kentucky 
was  by  the  route  traveled  before  through  Cumber- 
land Gap.  It  was  a  wild  trail  till  he  reached  the  first 
settlements  at  the  Crab  Orchard.  The  huts  in  which 
these  first  settlers  lived  were  small  and  filthy,  and  a 
severe  d3-sentery  fastened  upon  him ;  but  he  found  in 
these  wilds  a  little  good  claret  wine,  which  set  him 
up  again,  and  he  pressed  on  to  their  thicker  settle- 
ments. Kentucky  was  rapidly  filling  up,  and  the 
question  of  its  status  after  its  admission  into  tlie  Un- 
ion was  now  being  settled.  Should  it  be  a  slave  or  a 
free  state?  Ten  years  before  this,  David  Rice,  a  Vir- 
ginia Presbyterian,  had  come  from  Virginia  with  the 
first  Virginian  immigrants  and  established  the  first 
Presbyterian  Church  in  Kentucky.  He  had  also  es- 
tablished a  high  school,  and  was  a  leading  man  in  the 
territory.  He  was  bitterly  opposed  to  slavery,  and 
had  written  a  letter  to  the  convention  protesting 
against  allowing  it  in  Kentucky.  This  letter  Asbury 
VQ?A  with  PTeat  pleasure,  and  while  in  Kentucky  he 


140  Francis  As  bury, 

wrote  a  letter  to  Rice  encouraging  him  and  applaud- 
ing his  course.  Francis  Poythress^  who  belonged  to 
one  of  the  oldest  families  in  Virginia,  who  had  been 
licensed  to  preach  by  Asburj,  and  who  had  been  one 
of  his  trusted  helpers,  was  now  in  charge  of  the  Ken- 
tucky District.  He  had  planned  a  high  school,  and 
five  hundred  acres  of  land  had  been  given  for  its  en- 
dowment. He  was  now  trying  to  raise  money  for  the 
buildings,  and  Asbury  made  the  school  a  visit.  No 
one  at  the  present  day  can  have  any  true  idea  of  the 
difficulties  encountered  by  those  who  projected  and 
attempted  to  build  houses  for  schools  in  these  last 
days  of  the  last  century,  and  it  is  not  to  be  wondered 
at  that  the  effort  of  Poythress  was  not  fully  success- 
ful. The  times  were  greatly  disordered.  The  con- 
vention to  form  a  constitution  was  to  be  called.  The 
Indian  tribes  were  in  revolt.  The  Cherokees  on  the 
south  and  the  Wyandots  on  the  north  were  both  on 
the  warpath,  and  between  all  these  excitements  the 
little  band  that  composed  the  Conference  had  a  rath-" 
er  uneasy  session. 

The  session,  however,  was  held:  and  new  as  the 
country  was,  Asbury  preached  to  large  crowds.  De- 
spite all  the  hardships  of  the  wilderness  and  the  dan- 
gers from  the  Indians,  the  spirit  of  matrimony,  he 
says,  was  very  prevalent.  In  one  circuit  the  preach- 
ers were  all  settled.  This  was  a  serious  matter  to 
one  who  wanted  men  on  horseback.  The  land,  he 
said,  was  good,  the  country  new,  there  were  all  the 
facilities  for  family  maintenance,  and  so  the  suscep- 
tible preachers  v/ere  drawn  into  the  marriage  net. 

He  finished  his  work  in  Kentucky  and  started  on 
the  same  route  back  toward  Virginia.  In  passing 
through  the  mountains  he  came  near  the  hostile  sav- 


Francis  As  bury.  141 

ages;  guards  were  posted,  and  he  stood  guard  ail 
uight.  He  met  the  Hoiston  Conference,  and  thence 
\Yent  back  again  to  his  old  friend  General  Kussell's. 

Although  parts  of  eastern  Virginia  had  been  set- 
tled nea'rlj  two  hundred  years  and  the  country  was 
aged  and  worn,  the  western  slope  liad  only  been  oc- 
cuxJied  by  white  people  since  just  before  the  Revolu- 
tion. The  beautiful  valleys  of  Kentucky  and  of  the 
Hoiston  country,  and  even  of  w^hat  is  now  Middle 
Tennessee,  were  being  rapidly  populated,  but  the 
mountains  of  Virginia,  in  whose  bosoms  were  hid  the 
great  treasures  of  coal  and  iron,  were  as  they  had 
stood  for  all  the  centuries.  There  was,  however,  a 
rich  and  narrow^  valley  along  the  Kanawha,  which 
was  even  then  being  occupied.  The  adventurous  sur- 
veyor, George  Washington,  had  explored  these  lands 
while  he  was  a  young  man,  and  had  preempted  a 
large  part  of  this  almost  matchless  valley. 

Asbury  left  General  Eussell's  and  made  his  way 
northward  through  this  valley,  and  thence  rode  the 
one  hundred  weary  miles  through  almost  unbroken 
forests  to  m.eet  his  few  w^estern  preacherrs  in  the  older 
settlements  among  the  grass-clad  hills  of  Greenbrier. 
With  him  labor  and  exposure  were  so  common  that 
his  scant  records  give  but  a  faint  idea  of  the  sacrifice 
their  toils  demanded;  but  let  one  acquainted  with 
the  topography  of  this  western  section  follow  him  in 
his  journeyings,  and  he  will  see  something  of  the  la- 
bor he  must  have  undergone.  His  trip  to  Union- 
town,  in  Pennsylvania,  where  he  met  the  western 
section  of  the  Pennsylvania,  Maryland,  and  western 
Virginia  preachers,  was  by  the  same  wearisome 
route  of  which  we  have  already  given  account.  He 
turned  eastward,  and  now  for  the  first  time  in  weary 


142  Francis  As  bury. 

months  found  himself  in  the  midst  of  comfort  and  re- 
finement. He  paused  but  a  iitrie  while,  and  pressed 
on  to  New  England  to  make  his  second  visit.  Here 
in  Ljnn,  in  a  half-finished  house,  he  held  the  second 
New  England  Conference.  The  contrast  between  the 
old  civilization  and  the  new  Church  was  as  marked 
in  New  England  as  the  new  settlements  and  the  new 
Church  in  the  far  v>^est.  Old  England  had  over  one 
hundred  and  fifty  years  before  almost  transferred 
a  part  of  herself  to  the  section  in  which  this  little 
Conference  now  met.  It  might  be  said  that  this 
country  was  never  new,  and  it  Vvas  especially  true 
that  its  religious  features  wevQ  fixed,  and  yet  all  the 
hardships  of  the  frontier  were  found  here  in  the 
midst  of  this  old  civilization.  The  visit  to  Lynn  and 
the  effort  to  provide  preachers  for  the  old  east,  while 
far  less  exciting  than  the  journey  to  Kentucky,  was 
scarcely  less  trying. 

The  vrestern  part  of  New  York  was  being  rapidly 
peopled.  Nev/  Englanders  and  those  from  the  older 
parts  of  the  state  were  pressing  their  way  tovrard 
the  lakes.  Freeborn  Garrettson  had  for  six  ,years 
been  laboring  in  this  section  and  had  established 
Methodism  permanently  in  it,  and  he  and  his  sturdy 
corps  of  evangelists  met  Asbur^^  in  Albany.  During 
this  year  Garrettson,  the  elegant  ^tlaryland  gentle- 
man, married  into  the  distinguished  Livingston  fam- 
ily; and  this  marriage  introduced  Asbury  into  the  old 
families  of  the  Hudson,  among  whom  he  found  kindly 
friends  for  many  years  after  this.  Although  Meth- 
odism worked  largely  among  the  poor  and  unedu- 
cated both  in  England  and  America,  she  numbered 
among  her  truest  friends  and  warmest  supporters 
some  from  the  most  distin<]:uished  of  its  noble  and 


Francis  As  bury.  143 

aristocratic  families;  and  tlie  Livingstons,  Van  Cort- 
lands,  CarroUs,  Eidgleys,  Balls,  Eemberts,  Grants, 
Meriwethers,  Gonglis,  and  others,  were  not  inferior 
in  social  position  to  any  families  in  the  land. 

During  this  tour  Asbury  was  accompanied  by  Hope 
Hull,  of  whom  we  have  spoken  before,  and  he  left  the 
young  Marylander  in  Hartford^  where  he  spent  a 
year.  During  this  time  he  was  the  instrument  in  the 
conversion  of  a  youth  who  became  one  of  the  most 
striking  personages  in  the  early  part  of  the  century. 
This  was  Lorenzo  Dow.  He  was  an  ill-balanced  but 
remarkably  gifted  Connecticut  boy,  who  tried  to  be  a 
traveling  preacher  in  the  regular  connection, but  who 
found  the  restraints  of  its  discipline  too  great  for 
him  and  became  a  free  lance  in  theology,  who 
preached  from  Maine  to  Mississippi,  then  the  western 
frontier,  and  who  for  the  first  ten  years  of  this  centu- 
ry had  perhaps  a  stronger  hold  on  public  attention 
than  any  other  Methodist  preacher  on  the  continent. 

When  the  bishop  reached  New  York  City  on  his 
return,  the  warm-hearted  Methodists  of  the  society 
replenished  his  empty  purse  and  provided  him  with  a 
new  wardrobe.  This  supplied  his  needs,  and  he  com- 
placently says  that  this  was  better  than  £.500  a  year. 
It  is  evident  that  the  good  bishop,  contrasting  the 
position  of  the  comfortably  placed  pastor  of  one  of 
the  rich  churches  of  the  east  with  the  Methodist 
bishop  and  his  fSO  a  year,  traveling  from  Maine  to 
Georgia,  was  not  disposed  to  discount  the  Methodist. 

Going  from  New  York  he  stopped  in  Philadelphia 
where  he  found  things  in  the  Ebenezer  church  in  a 
lively  state.  His  description  of  the  meeting  gives  us 
an  insight  into  many  of  the  meetings  of  those  days: 
"The  m  obi  lit  V  then  came  in  like  the  roaring  of  the 


14.^  FiiANCis  AtiBunr. 

sea.  Tliey  had  been  alarmed  the  night  before  by 
a  shout,  which  probably  was  one  cause  why  the 
congregation  was  so  large.  Brother  A.  went  to 
prayer;  a  person  cried  out;  brother  C.  joined  in;  the 
wicked  were  collected  to  oiipose.  I  felt  the  power  of 
darkness  was  very  strong.  .  .  .  This  is  a  wick- 
ed, a  horribly  wicked  city;  for  their  unfaithfulness 
they  will  be  smitten  in  anger  for  their  sleepy  silence 
in  the  house  of  God,  which  ought  to  resound  with  the 
voice  of  praise  and  frequent  prayer;  the  Lord  will 
visit  their  streets  with  the  silence  of  desolation.'' 

He  left  Philadelphia  for  the  eastern  shore  and 
made  his  annual  tour,  and  then  went  with  a  heavy 
heart  to  Baltimore.  His  heart  was  heavy  because 
the  General  Conference  was  to  meet.  It  is  useless 
to  deny  the  fact,  Bishop  Asburj^  did  not  wash  the 
General  Conference  to  assemble.  He  did  not  wish 
to  be  hampered.  He  thought  he  knew  the  necessity 
of  tlie  times  and  that  he  was  master  of  the  situation. 
While  he  cared  not  a  jot  for  power,  except  as  a  means 
to  do  good,  he  believed  every  restriction  put  upon 
him  would  be  to  the  injury  of  the  work;  but  the  An- 
nual Conferences  had  called  the  Conference,  and 
now  he  went  to  meet  it. 

The  General  Conference  met  November  1, 1792.  It 
was  simply  a  mass  meeting  of  the  traveling  preach- 
ers. The  Christmas  Conference  of  1784  had  done 
little  more  than  to  legalize  the  suggestions  of  Dr. 
Coke,  who  brought  over  the  service-book,  and  the 
regulations  suggested  by  Mr.  Wesley,  and  any 
legislation  since  that  time  had  been  done  by  the 
preachers  acting  through  their  District  or  Annual 
Conferences.  Bishop  Asbnry,  as  we  have  said,  did 
not  wish  a  General  Conforonco  called;  but  Dr.  Coke 


Francis  As  bury,  145 

did,  and  he  expressed  the  wish  of  the  preachers. 
Bishop  Asburj  expected  what  was  the  fact,  that 
there  would  be  a  complete  revision  of  the  Discipline, 
and  feared  that  there  would  be  sundry  very  unpleas- 
ant alterations.     He  sajs,  October  31st:  "Came  to 
Baltimore  in  a  storm  of  rain.     Whilst  we  were  sit- 
ting in  the  room  at  Mr.  Ross's  in  came  Dr.  Coke,  of 
whose  arrival  I  had  not  heard  and  whom  we  em- 
braced with  great  love.     I  felt  awful  at  the  General 
Conference  which  began  November  1,  1792.     At  mj 
desire  they  appointed  a  moderator  and  preparatory 
committee  to  keep  order  and  bring  forward  the  busi- 
ness with  regularity.     We  had  heavy  debates  on  the 
first,  second,  »nd  third  sections  of  our  form  of  dis- 
cipline.    My  power  to  station  the  preachers  without 
an  appeal  waslnuch  debated,  but  finally  carried  by  a 
large  majority.     Perhaps  a  new  bishop,  new  Confer- 
ence, and  new  laws  would  have  better  pleased  some.- * 
The  bishop  was  not  well,  and  after  sitting  witli 
the  Conference  a  week  he  went  to  bed,  and  wrote  to 
the  body  the  letter  which  is  found  below.     The  real 
ground  of  conflict  was  as  to  the  power  to  be  allowed 
him.     Should  the  American  preachers  have  the  lib- 
erty of  the  English  connection,  and  should  one  dis- 
satisfied with  his  appointment  be  allowed  to  appeal 
to  the  Conference  and  ask  for  a  change?     James 
O'Kelly   led   those   who   asked   for  this   privilege. 
He   was   seconded  by  strong  men   who  had   been 
closely  connected  with  Asbury,  and  were  much  at- 
tached to  him  personally.     Among  them  were  Rich- 
ard   Ivey,    Hope   Hull,    and    Freeborn    Garrettson. 
Their  devotion  to  the  Church  coiiJd  not  be  ques- 
.tioned,  and  their  ability  was  conceded;  but  opposed 
to  them  were  men  of  equal  ability,  and  some  of  these 
10 


146  Francis  As  bury, 

were  not  favorites  with  Asburj,  nor  was  he  in  high 
favor  with  them.  Jesse  Lee,  who  in  after  yeavs  was 
a  leader  of  the  liberals,  stood  by  Asbury  in  this  con- 
test, and  did  as  much  to  defeat  O'Keliy  as  any  one  of 
the  body.  While  the  matter  was  being  discussed, 
Asbury  withdrew  and  wrote  the  following  letter: 

My  Dear  Brethren:  Let  my  absence  give  you  no  pain.  Dr. 
Coke  presides.  I  am  happily  excused  from  assist!-  g  to  make 
laws  by  which  I  myself  am  to  be  governed.  I  have  only  to 
obey  and  execute.  I  am  happy  in  the  consideration  that  I 
have  never  stationed  a  preacher  through  enmity  or  as  a  pun- 
ishment. I  have  acted  for  the  glory  of  God,  the  good  of  the 
people,  and  to  promote  the  usefulness  of  the  preachers.  Are 
you  sure  that  if  you  please  yourselves  the  people  will  be  as 
fully  satisfied?  They  often  say,  "Let  us  have  such  a  preach- 
er;" and  sometimes,  "We  will  not  have  such  a  preacher; 
we  will  sooner  pay  him  to  stay  at  home."  Perhaps,  I  must 
say,  his  appeal  forced  him  upon  you.  I  am  one,  you  are 
many;  I  am  as  willing  to  serve  you  as  ever.  I  want  not  to 
sit  in  any  man's  way;  I  scorn  to  solicit  your  votes;  I  am  a 
very  trembling  poor  creature  to  hear  praise  or  dispraise. 
Speak  your  minds  freely,  but  remember  you  are  only  making 
laws  for  the  present  time.  It  may  be  that,  as  in  some  other 
things,  so  in  this,  a  future  day  may  give  you  further  light. 

The  Conference  refused  to  make  the  change  asked 
for,  and  O'Keliy,  disappointed  and  angered,  gath- 
ered up  his  saddlebags  and,  with  some  of  those  as- 
sociated with  him,  withdrev/  from  the  Conference 
room  and  returned  to  his  home  in  Virginia.  The 
Conference  was  anxious  to  conciliate  him,  but  ho 
was  not  willing  to  be  reconciled,  and  after  a  fev/ 
months  of  silence  he  withdrew  entirely  from  the  con- 
nection and  formed  the  Republican  Methodists.  He 
was  in  after  times  very  bitter  toward  his  old  asso- 
ciate; but  they  met  when  O'Keliy  was  on  his  death- 
bed, and  Asbury  prayed  for  him  and  with  him,  and 


Francis  As  bury,  147 

they  parted  to  meet  no  more  on  earth.  The  positive 
old  Irishman  had  been  too  long  in  control  of  things 
in  his  section  to  submit  to  another's  dictation,  and  a 
separation  betvv^een  the  two  was  inevitable.  There 
was,  however,  nothing  in  O'Kelly's  motives  which 
seems  to  have  been  censurable.  He  really  thought 
the  arbitrary  course  which  a  bishop  might  take  ought 
to  be  anticipated  and  provided  against,  but  Asbury 
could  not  see  anj'  danger  from  that  direction. 

As  Asbury  came  southward  after  the  General  Con- 
ference adjourned,  he  found  the  leaven  at  work,  and 
Kice  Haggard  and  William  McKendree  both  with- 
drew from  the  connection.  McKendree  afterwards 
returned,  and  when  he  was  a  bishop  stood  as  firmly 
for  the  episcopal  prerogative  as  he  had  opposed  it  in 
Baltimore;  and  no  man  was  ever  nearer  to  Asbury 
than  he  w^as  in  after  days. 

Bishop  Asbury  rode  through  central  North  Caro- 
lina to  Kembert  Hall,  in  South  Carolina.  Col.  James 
Rembert,  a  wealthy  slave  ov/ner  who  lived  on  Black 
River,  was  one  of  the  wealthiest  and  most  pious  men 
of  his  section.  Rembert  Hall  was  on  Asbury's  route 
to  Charleston,  and  once  a  year  he  found  shelter  there. 
After  a  brief  stay  the  bishop  went  on  to  Charleston, 
and  found  that  the  eloquent  Hammett  had  raised  a 
grand  house  and  written  an  appeal  to  the  British 
Conference,  in  which  he  said  some  very  hard  things 
of  Dr.  Coke,  and  doubtless  of  Asbury.  As  soon  as 
Conference  w\ts  over,  he  made  his  journey  to  Geor- 
gia. He  found  a  resting  place  at  Thomas  Haynes's. 
Haynes  was  one  of  those  sturdy  Virginians  who  set- 
tled in  Georgia,  and  whose  life  was  devoted  to  the 
building  up  of  the  Methodist  Church,  and  whose  dis- 
tinguished family  has  done  so  much  for  it. 


148  Francis  Asbury, 

The  Conference  met  at  Grant's,  and  it  was  decided 
to  unite  the  South  Carolina  and  Georgia  Confer- 
ences, or  districts  as  they  were  tlien  called,  and 
thenceforth  they  were  known  as  the  South  Carolina 
Conference,  until  the  division  again  nearly  forty 
years  afterwards. 

Mr.  Asbur}'  now  resolved  to  take  a  tour  through 
the  older  settled  parts  of  Georgia  and  South  Caro- 
lina. He  rode  through  the  pine  woods,  and  over  the 
sand  beds  through  Warren,  Burke,  Screven,  and  Ef 
fingham  counties,  to  Savannah.  The  settlers  alonu 
the  w^ay  were  few,  and  he  says  the  time  between 
meals  was  long.  He  stopped  with  an  old  friend  who 
had  received  a  letter  from  Mr.  Philip  Matthews,  in 
which  the  charge  was  made  by  Mr.  Hammett  "that 
Mr.  AA'esley's  absolute  authority  over  the  societies 
was  not  established  in  America  because  of  Bishop 
Asbury's  opposition."  Bishop  Asbury  admits  this, 
but  says  the  "Americans  were  too  jealous  to  bind 
themselves  to  yield  to  him  in  all  things  relative  to 
Church  government." 

The  travelers  reached  Savannah,  to  which  Hope 
Hull  had  been  sent,  but  w^here  no  society  had  yet 
been  formed.  Bishop  Asbury  saw  Whitefield's  Or- 
phan House  in  ruins,  and  came  by  Ebenezer  wiiere 
the  Salzburghers  were  then  established.  The  court- 
house in  Savannah  was  offered  him,  but  he  preached 
at  Mr.  M.'s.  This  was  doubtless  at  Mr.  Millen's,  a 
good  Presbyterian  who  always  befriended  the  strug- 
gling Methodists.  Mr.  Asbury  supposed  Savannah 
had  then  two  thousand  people  in  it.  There  was  an 
Independent,  an  Episcopal,  a  Baptist,  and  a  Luther- 
an church  there.  He  crossed  the  Savannah  River 
at  Sister's  ferrv,  in  Efflnorham  countv,  preached  at 


Francis  Asbuby.  149 

Black  Swamp,  and  rode  to  Purjsburg,  and  fiom 
thence,  aloni;  what  is  now  the  Charleston  and  Sa- 
vannah railroad,  to  Charleston.  Much  of  the  coun- 
try was  an  unbroken  pine  wood,  though  along  the 
rivers  there  were  occasional  rice  plantations.  This 
journey  took  him  over  much  the  same  countrj-  which 
Mr.  Wesley  had  traveled,  on  foot,  when  he  left  Sa- 
vannah the  last  time.  After  a  wearisome  travel  he 
reached  Charleston.  At  this  time  the  congregation 
there  consisted  of  five  hundred,  of  whom  two  hun- 
dred were  whites.  In  no  city  in  the  United  States 
has  the  Methodist  Church  suffered  so  much  from  in- 
testine troubles  as  in  Charleston,  and  the  progress 
made  in  spite  of  Mr.  Hammett's  division  was  really 
remarkable.  The  bishop  expected  to  remain  in 
Charleston  a  little  while,  but  a  sick  friend  came  from 
the  north  who  needed  the  country  air,  and  he  hurried 
away. 

For  nearly  a  hundred  miles  from  Charleston,  in  ev 
ery  direction,  there  are  swamps  and  rivers,  and  his 
journal  of  travel  is  little  more  than  a  wearisome  ac- 
count of  rivers  ferried  or  creeks  swum.  He  reached 
the  newly-established  capital  of  South  Carolina,  Co- 
bmibia,  and  then  through  the  high  waters  made  his 
way  toward  North  Carolina. 

His  rule  was  to  have  appointments  to  preach  at  ev- 
ery place  where  he  stopped.  He  rose  in  the  morning 
at  four  o'clock,  read  his  Bible  and  prayed  till  six,  and 
ns  soon  as  breakfast  could  be  had  he  began  his  trav- 
el again.  The  country  w^as  comparatively  new  and 
was  being  rapidly  peopled,  chiefly  by  emigrants  from 
Virginia  and  Maryland.  He  kept  the  question  of 
where  a  new  preacher  should  be  sent  continually  be- 
fore him,  and  kept  vatch  for  the  preacher.      He 


150  Fbancis  As  bury, 

went  into  the  question  of  where  the  ijreachers  should 
be  stationed  with  a  perfect  acquaintance  with  the 
work. 

He  was  untiring,  and  though  feeble,  worn,  and 
often  really  sick,  he  did  not  spare  himself,  but 
pressed  on  his  w^ay.  His  life  storj^  is  almost  a  mo- 
notonous one,  for  days  but  repeat  themselves,  and 
they  ail  tell  the  same  story.  Despite  the  fatigue  of 
travel,  he  was  not  neglectful  of  his  books.  He  car- 
ried a  few  with  him,  and  during  his  long  rides  he 
read  and  studied.  His  Hebrev/  Bible  was  his  con- 
stant companion,  and  while  he  was  making  his  jour 
ney  through  the  hills  of  upper  South  Carolina  he  was 
studying  Hebrew  points  and  planning  a  new  school. 

He  was  making  his  w^ay  to  the  Holston  country, 
and  traA^eled  through  the  mountains  of  North  Caro- 
lina, going  his  most  direct  route  to  General  Russell's, 
in  southwest  Virginia.  The  western  part  of  North 
Carolina  was  then  a  comparatively  new  country,  and 
was  largely  peopled  by  settlers  from  Germany  and 
Ireland,  or  their  immediate  descendants.  There 
v;ere  few  comforts  to  be  found  on  any  line  of  travel, 
and  very  few  indeed  on  the  rough  mountain  trail  he 
and  his  companions  pursued.  They  were  glad  to 
^Qt  a  few  Irish  potatoes,  some  flax  for  bedding,  and 
a  fev.'  boards  to  shelter  them.  The  bishop,  however, 
made  the  journey  safely,  preaching  as  he  went,  and 
after  crossing  the  Watauga  River  and  climbing  the 
Stone  and  Iron  mountains,  and  descending  that  steep 
side  wiiere  it  was  impossible  to  ride,  and  where  his 
rheumatism  made  it  very  painful  to  go  on  foot,  he 
finally  reached  the  hospitable  home  of  his  good  old 
friend  Madam  Russell.  This  excellent  v,oman  was 
a  second  time  a  widow. 


t'UANCIS  As  BURY.  161 

General  Russell,  the  brave  old  soldier,  who  had 
become  iu  later  lite  a  happy,  useful  Christian,  had 
gone  to  his  reward.  Asbur.y  preached  at  the  home 
of  the  widow,  and  there  followed  several  exhorta 
tious.  They  were  five  hours  in  the  exercise,  and 
there  was  shouting  and  weeping  among  the  people. 
No  wonder  he  adds:  "I  have  little  rest  by  day  or 
night;  Lord,  help  thy  poor  dust."  '^  I  feel  unexpect- 
ed storms  from  various  quarters.  Perhaps  it  is  de- 
signed for  my  humiliation.  It  is  sin  in  thought  1 
am  afraid  of;  none  but  Jesus  can  sujjply  us,  by  his 
merit,  his  spirit,  his  righteousness,  his  intercession.'' 
He  made  his  v,  ay  again  to  Rehoboth,  in  ^Monroe 
county,  Virginia,  where  he  met  the  preachers  of 
southwest  Virginia,  and  then  through  the  wild  Al- 
leghanies  one  hundred  miles  to  the  then  small  but 
lively  village  of  Staunton.  There  was  an  Episcopal 
church,  a.  courthouse,  a  tavern,  and  som.e  good 
stores.  Then  down  the  valley  to  Winchester,  where 
"we. had  an  excellent  new  house,"  and  then  to  his 
rest  at  wicked  Bath. 

After  recruiting,  he  crossed  the  mountains  of  east- 
ern Pennsylvania  and  upper  New  Jersey  and  went 
up  the  Hudson  to  Albany.  The  people  of  Albany,  he 
says,  "roll  in  wealth,  but  they  had  no  heart  to  ask 
the  poor  preachers  to  their  homes." 

Although  it  was  but  the  middle  of  the  year,  this 
indefatigable  man  had  gone  from  Charleston,  South 
Carolina,  through  the  wildest  mountains  of  the  Al- 
leghany range,  to  Connecticut. 

Methodism  had  come  to  New  England  to  stay,  and 
the  Conference  was  to  meet  at  Tolland.  With  a  blis- 
ter behind  his  ear  for  a  sore  throat  and  a  poultice  on 
his  foot  for  rheumatism,  he  consented  to  rest  a  little 


152  Francis  As  bury. 

while,  but  only  for  two  days.  He  was  again  at- 
tacked by  the  rheumatism,  and  w^as  not  able  to  walk 
from  his  horse  to  the  house,  and  had  to  be  lifted 
down  from  the  saddle  and  up  again. 

On  his  way  back,  when  he  came  near  Whitehall, 
in  [New  York,  his  horse  started  and  threw  him  into 
a  mill  race,  and  his  shoulder  was  hurt  by  the  fall. 
He  stoi)ped  at  a  house,  changed  his  wet  clothes,  and 
prayed  with  the  people.  "If  any  of  these  peoj)le  are 
awakened  by  my  stopping  here,"  says  he,  "all  will 
be  well." 

The  calamity  he  had  predicted  the  year  before  had 
fallen  on  Philadelphia — the  yellow  fever  was  there, 
and  there  was  silence  in  the  streets.  It  was  almost 
recklessness  that  would  lead  one  to  go  into  the 
plague-stricken  town,  but  he  never  turned  his  horse's 
head.  He  rode  at  once  into  the  midst  of  the  pesti- 
lence, delivered  his  message,  and  then  went  on  his 
way.  He  had  si)ent  nearly  three  weeks  in  the  midst 
of  the  sickness,  and  then  made  his  annual  visit  to  the 
eastern  shore.  He  attended  the  last  Conference  of 
the  year,  at  Baltimore.  Here  he  raised  a  collection 
for  the  distressed  preachers  which  amounted  to  £43. 


CHAPTEE  XXL 

1793-1794. 

Southern  Tour— Great  Exposure— William  McKeiidree— Tour 
to  the  North  —  Southward  Again  — The  Colle^^e  —  K.  li, 
Roberts. 

THE  Conference  sessions  began  with  the  later 
fall   months,   so   after   leaving   Baltimore  the 
bishop  made  his  way  into  Mrginia  and  passed  rap- 
idly through  the  center  of  the  state,  going  as  far  west 
as  Prince  Edward,  returning  eastward,  and  leaving 
the  state  from  lirunswick  county.     He  found  that 
the  O'Kelly  trouble  had  not  been  so  serious  as  he 
feared.     McKendree,  finding  he  had  been  misled,  re- 
turned to  the  old  fold,  and  was  going  on  with  him 
to  the  south.     He  again  passed  through  the  eastern 
part  of  Xorth  (,'arolina,  met  the  Conference  again  at 
Green  HilFs,  and  feeble  and  worn  he  came  to  Broad 
River  in  South  Carolina,  where  the  South  Carolina 
Conference  was  to  have  its  session.     Philip  Bruce, 
presiding  elder,  was  very  sick,  and  so  was  the  bishop, 
but  he  managed  to  go  through  with  the  work,  and  on 
the  20th  of  January  reached  Charleston,  where  he 
had  time  to  rest.     It  is  a  positive  relief  to  the  reader 
to  know  that  for  thirty  days  the  earnest  and  afflicted 
man  was  as  still  as  lie  could  be.     Dr.  Ramsay,  the 
first  of  our  historians,  whose  histories  of  South  Car- 
olina and  of  the  Revolution  are  so  eagerly  sought  for, 
attended  him;  but  though  Asbury  was  willing  to  be 
blistered  and  to  take  nauseous  doses,  he  was  not  will- 
ing to  do  the  most  important  thing  he  could  do — to 
rest.     He  read,  he  visited,  he  preached,  while  he  was 

(15B) 


loi  Francis  As  bum  y. 

here.  Poor  Beverly  Allen,  who  had  gone  fuom  bad 
to  worse,  killed  the  United  States  marshal  in  Au- 
gusta and  tied  to  the  wilderness  of  Kentucky.  Alien 
had  done  the  bishoj)  much  harm  by  his  misrepresen- 
tations, and  Asbury  had  always  distrusted  him,  but 
now  his  sad  fate  ailected  him  painfully.  The  blsh- 
ojj's  stay  in  Charleston  at  this  time  was  the  longest 
stop  he  had  made  in  many  months;  but  he  was  eager 
to  get  to  w^ork  again,. and  as  soon  as  he  could  safely 
do  so  he  was  on  his  w^ay  to  Eembert's.  The  country 
through  which. he  rode  was  a  i)eculiar  one — along 
the  river  affected  by  the  tide  sufficiently  to  make  the 
li\^ater  available  for  flooding  the  fields  were  magnifi- 
cent rice  plantations,  worked  by  large  gangs  of 
slaves,  and  then  came  wide  stretches  of  uncultivated 
pine  forests.  He  says,  after  riding  twenty -seven 
miles  without  eating:  "How  good  were  the  X)otatoes 
and  fried  gammon!  We  then  had  only  two  miles 
to  brother  Eembert's,  v\'liere  we  arrived  at  seven 
o'clock.  What  blanks  are  in  this  country,  and  how 
much  worse  are  the  rice  plantations!  If  a  man-of- 
war  is  a  floating  hell,  these  are  standing  ones:  wick- 
ed masters,  overseers,  and  negroes,  cursing,  drink 
ing,  no  Sabbath,  no  sermons.'' 

He  had  said  little  on  the  subject  of  slavery  for 
some  time.  He  had  found  that  the  greatest  success 
Avon  by  Methodists  had  been  among  slave  owner's; 
so  that  one  might  have  thought  that  he  w^as  satisfied 
that  his  vievrs  were  too  extreme,  or  that  other  mat- 
ters seemed  to  him  to  be  more  important  than  eman- 
cipation. He,  however,  says  now:  "Some  are  afraid 
that  if  we  retain  among  us  none  who  trade  in  slaves, 
the  preachers  will  not  be  supported;  but  my  fear  is, 
v»"e  shall  not  be  able  to  supplv  the  state  with  preach- 


FllANClS  AsBUliW  155 

ers."  He  left  the  hospitable  home  of  Colonel  Kern- 
belt  for  a  journey  northward.  Tassing  through  the 
Waxhawfe!,  vvhere  Andrew  Jackson  was  born,  he 
made  his  way  into  North  Carolina^  as  he  says, 
through  discouraging  prospects.  lie  came  through 
Charlotte,  in  Mecklenburg,  where  the  Scotch-Irish 
had  their  large  settlement,  and  with  Tobias  Gibson 
for  a  companion  Vvent  into  the  Dutch  settlement  on 
the  Catawba.  This  he  found  a  barren  place  for  re- 
ligion. In  attempting  to  cross  the  Catawba  he  near- 
ly lost  his  life  by  getting  into  the  Y>'rong  ford.  There 
was  rain,  rain,  and  only  when  he  reached  dear  old 
father  Harper's  after  midnight,  having  been  wet  for 
six  or  seven  hours,  did  he  find  shelter.  The  next  day 
he  was  off  again. 

"It  has  been  a  heavy  campaign,"  he  said,  "but  my 
soul  enjoys  peace;  but  oh,  for  men  of  God!  This 
campaign  has  made  me  groan,  being  burdened.  I 
have  provided  brother  Gibson,  for  the  westward.  •  I 
wrote  a  plan  for  stationing.  I  desired  the  dear 
preachers  to  be  as  I  am  in  the  work.  I  have  no  in- 
terest, no  passions  in  the  appointments;  my  only  aim 
is  to  care  for  the  flock  of  Christ.  I  feel  resolved  to 
be  wliolly  for  the  Lord,  v/eak  as  I  am.  I  have  done 
nothing,  I  am  nothing,  only  for  Christ,  or  I  had  been 
long  since  cut  off  as  an  unfaithful  servant.  Christ 
is  all  and  in  all  I  do,  or  it  had  not  been  done,  or  when 
done  had  by  no  means  been  acceptable."  He  did  not 
spare  himself;  he  did  not  spare  anyone  else,  and 
complains  that  McKendree  had  not  visited  this  ob- 
scure part  of  North  Carolina  in  w-hich  he  was,  and 
adds:  "If  I  could  think  myself  of  any  account,  I 
might  say  with  Mr.  Wesley,  ^If  it  be  so  while  I  ara 
nlive,  what  will  it  be  after  mv  death?'  " 


156  Francis  Asbury, 

No  man  ever  lived  who  did  not  make  a  real  merit 
of  self-sacrifice,  who  had  less  disposition  to  spare 
himself  hardships  than  liishop  Asbury.  Living- 
stone inspired  by  his  dream  of  mapping  out  Africa 
and  destroying  the  slave  trade,  Francis  Xavier  in 
his  zeal  for  the  conversion  of  India  to  the  Catholic 
faith,  or  Las  Casas  in  his  devotion  to  the  Indians, 
were  not  more  untiring  in  toil  nor  daring  in  exposure 
than  was  this  heroic  man. 

One  sometimes  pauses  to  ask,  ''Was  this  martyr- 
dom?" for  martyrdom  it  was — a  needless  sacrifice; 
or,  "Was  it  a  demand  that  had  to  be  met?"  W^hen 
one  studies  the  history  of  those  times,  the  raj)id 
movement  of  population  westward,  the  influence  of 
the  wild  environments  upon  character,  the  need  for 
quick,  energetic,  discreet  action,  and  sees  how  the 
heroic  spirit  of  this  man  made  the  heroes  that  the 
day  demanded,  he  cannot  but  feel  that  there  was 
nothing  morbid  in  the  anxiety  of  x\sbury  to  ma  Ice 
every  sacrifice  that  the  work  might  be  pushed  for- 
ward. That  he  might  have  overestimated  his  per- 
sonal importance  was  but  natural;  and  that  he 
should  have  exacted  too  much  of  others,  would  likely 
have  followed  from  his  own  entire  disregard  of  ev- 
erything like  personal  ease,  when  he  thought  duty 
to  the  work  was  involved. 

William  McKendree,  to  whom  Asbury  evidently 
refers  under  the  initials,  W.  M.,  and  who  was  after- 
wards to  be  his  trusted  lieutenant,  and  to  do  more 
for  Methodism  than  any  other  man  of  his  day,  save 
Asbury  himself,  was  now  on  the  T^uion  Oircuit,  in 
South  Carolina.  In  those  days  circuits  had  no  defi- 
nite boundaries,  and  McKendree's  parish  stretched 
from  middle  South  Carolina  awav  toward  the  Hoi- 


Francis  As  bury,  157 

ston  country.  McKendree  had  been  a  preacher  now 
for  seven  years.  He  stood  by  O' Kelly  in  his  contest 
with  Asbury,  and  when  O'Kelly  withdrew  he  with- 
drew also;  but  he  afterwards  changed  his  opinion, 
and  accepted  the  decision  of  the  Conference  as  a  wise 
one,  and  thirty  years  afterwards  the  same  question, 
In  another  form,  found  him  occupying  the  place  that 
Asbury  occupied  in  1792. 

The  side  lights  which  Asbury  in  his  journal  cast 
on  times  wMch  many  have  looked  upon  as  the  golden 
days  of  Methodism  are  important.  He  was  very 
happy,  he  says,  while  riding  along  toward  Dr.  Brow- 
er's ;  on  his  way  he  saw  Babel,  the  Baptist-Methodist 
house,  "about  which  there  had  been  so  much  quarrel- 
ing. It  was  made  of  logs,  and  is  no  great  matter.'' 
And  again  he  says:  "I  am  astonished  at  professors 
neglecting  family  and  private  prayer.  Lord,  help; 
for  there  is  little  genuine  religion  in  the  world." 

On  his  way,  in  Surrey  county,  North  Carolina,  hi? 
found  some  old  disciples  from  Maryland,  Virginia, 
and  Delaware.  He  found  also  a  schoolhouse  twenty 
feet  square,  two  stories  high,  well  set  out  with  doors 
and  windows,  on  a  beautiful  eminence  overlooking 
the  Yadkin,  and  known  as  Cokesbury  School.  This 
school  was  located  in  the  bounds  of  what  is  now  the 
Farmington  Circuit,  in  the  Western  North  Carolina 
Conference.  He  rode  now  to  Salem,  where  the  Mo- 
ravians had  a  village,  and  thence  through  Guilford 
into  Pittsylvania  county,  Virginia,  and  north  by  his 
old  route  through  central  Virginia,  Going  along 
the  foothills  of  the  Blue  Ridge,  he  preached  in  the 
courthouse  at  Liberty,  the  county  site  of  Bedford; 
but  he  did  not  find  freedom  to  eat  bread  and  drink 
water  in  the  little  village  where  there  is  now  the 


158  Francis  As  bury, 

magnificent  Randolph  -  Macon  Academy.  His  soul 
was  in  i^eace  and  perfect  love,  he  says,  and  he  pro- 
posed to  preach  present  conviction,  conversion,  and 
sanctification.  ^'  I  might  do  many  things  better  than 
I  do/'  he  says,  ''but  this  I  do  not  discover  till  after- 
wards." 

He  Yvent  over  the  hills  into  Rockbridge,  Virginia, 
preached  at  Lexington,  and  at  length  reached  Win- 
chester, where,  sick  and  weary,  he  found  a  resting- 
place  at  R.  Harrison's,  and  gargled  his  poor  throat 
with  rose-leaf  water  and  spirits  of  vitriol.  Perhaps 
if  the  gargle  had  been  substituted  by  rest,  and  he  had 
felt  it  less  a  duty  to  make  a  loud  noise  in  preaching, 
his  throat  might  have  recruited  sooner.  Thougli 
his  throat  was  sore  and  his  ear  inflamed,  and  he  had 
a  chill  and  high  fever,  he  attended  Conference  and 
preached,  and  then  went  on  his  way  to  brother 
Phelps's,  in  northern  Virginia.  The  people  came 
from  every  side  to  hear  him;  and  though  sick  and 
weary,  he  took  his  staff  and  climbed  the  hill,  and 
did  his  best. 

He  came  again  to  Baltimore,  where,  as  the  people 
v\^ould  have  it,  he  consented  to  have  his  likeness 
taken.  This  is  the  portrait  of  him  so  commonly  seen, 
(ind  was  taken  when  he  was  forty-nine  years  old. 
He  made  his  northward  trip,  and  in  Philadelphia  he 
had  a  talk  with  Mr.  Pilmoor  about  Mr.  G.,  in  which 
there  was  some  question  about  his  administration 
of  affairs.  Bishop  Asbury  stated  his  position:  (1) 
He  did  not  make  rules,  but  had  to  execute  them. 
|2)  That  anyone  who  desired  him  to  act  in  disregard 
of  these  laws  either  insulted  him  as  an  individual  or 
the  Conference  as  a  body  of  men.  These  two  prin-" 
ciples  controlled  him.    Believing  fully  that  he  was 


Francis  As  bury,  159 

divinely  called  to  the  ofiice  and  work  of  a  bishop, 
jet  unlike  Mr.  \yesiey,  who  made  the  rules  others 
were  not  to  mend,  he  made  no  rules,  but  left  his 
brethren  to  do  that,  and  merely  kept  those  made  for 
him. 

He  came  as  far  north  as  Providence,  Rhode  Island, 
but  had  no  freedom  to  eat  bread  and  drink  water  in 
that  place.  He  found  a  good  prospect  at  New  Lon- 
don, and  passed  from  thence  through  the  Valley 
of  the  Connecticut.  R.  R.  Roberts,  afterwards  the 
bishop,  traveled  with  him  on  this  tour  and  assisted 
him  in  his  work.  He  could  find  but  little  of  what 
he  thou^iht  religion  in  this  section.  The  Conference 
met  on  September  5th,  and  they  w^ent  through  with 
the  business.  On  Sunday  they  spent  from  eight 
to  nine  in  prayer;  a  sermon,  three  exhortations,  and 
the  sacrament  followed.  They  w^ere  engaged  in  the 
service  till  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and  he 
broke  his  fast  at  seven.  Then  he  came  southward, 
attending  Conference  in  New  York  and  Philadel- 
phia, and  rode  to  Cokesbury.  The  college  was  in 
debt  £1,200,  and  £300  ought  to  be  paid  at  once. 
Thence  he  came  to  the  Virginia  Conference,  whicli 
met  at  Mabry's,  in  Brunswick.  The  Conference  had 
decided  that  extreme  measures  against  slavehold- 
ing,  as  far  as  the  laity  was  concerned,  were  not  now 
wise;  but  that  as  far  as  the  preachers  wore  con- 
cerned, they  should  not  remain  in  the  traveling  con- 
nection and  hold  slaves.  After  the  Conference  was 
over  he  began  his  usual  journey  southw^ard.  When 
he  left  Mrs.  Mabry's,  where  he  held  Conference,  he 
continued  his  journey,  through  rain  and  snow  and 
cold,  to 'Charleston  once  more. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

1795. 

Episcopal  Jouineyiags — Death  of  Judge  White — The  Ennalls 
Family — Governor  Van  Cortlandt — Keturn  South. 

THE  bishop  remained  inCharleston  several  weeks 
trying  to  recruit  his  strength.  He  preached, 
visited  the  people,  and  met  the  classes.  The  mob 
was  very  violent,  breaking  the  church  windows,  dis- 
turbing the  congregation  while  at  service,  and  sneer 
ing  at  the  preacher  on  the  streets.  He  read  diligent- 
ly, and  read  Wesley's  Journal,  Flavel  on  Keeping  the 
Heart,  and  the  History  of  the  French  Revolution, 
but  he  was  impatient  to  be  gone.  He,  however, 
spent  two  months  in  the  city,  and  labored  as  best  he 
could.  He  says  he  '^w^as  very  much  dejected  the 
while,  and  worldly  people  are  intolerably  ignorant 
of  God.  Playing,  dancing,  swearing,  racing — these 
are  their  common  practices  and  pursuits.  Our  few 
male  members  do  not  attend  preaching,  and  I  fear 
there  is  hardly  one  who  walks  with  God.  Oh,  how 
I  should  prize  a  quiet  retreat  in  the  woods!" 

He  now  went  to  the  northwestern  part  of  South 
Carolina,  where  he  was  trying  to  collect  one  hundred 
pounds  to  finish  Bethel  school.  He  says  that  on 
this  journey  he  met  the  negroes  apart  from  the 
whites,  and  said  "for  obvious  reasons  it  was  the  only 
way  in  which  to  meet  them."  He  ordained  a  deacon 
and  married  the  deacon's  daughter  to  a  husband, 
and  it  was  all  be  could  do,  he  said,  to  keep  the 
wedding  company  serious.  Then  he  rode  northward 
(160) 


Francis  As  bury,  161 

tlirougli  westeiii  North  Carolina,  to  Ernest's,  on  the 
Nohichucky,  in  Tennessee,  where  he  met  the  Holston 
Conference,  thence  through  the  mountains  of  west- 
ern Virginia  to  Charlestown,  and  through  Freder- 
ick, in  Maryland,  to  his  old  friends,  the  Warfields, 
and  on  to  Baltimore,  and  to  Perry  Hall.  Then  came 
to  him  the  sad  news  of  the  death  of  one  who  had  been 
dearer  to  him  than  any  other  friend  he  had  made  in 
America,  Thomas  White,  whose  house  had  been  his 
place  of  refuge  when  he  was  driven  from  Maryland. 
Judge  White  had  lived  a  pure  life,  and  died  a  happy 
death.  Asbury  was  now  fifty  years  old,  and  was  as 
dead  to  the  world  as  though  he  had  not  been  in  ir. 
He  says:  '^I  feel  happy  in  speaking  to  all  I  find, 
whether  parents,  children,  or  servants,  and  I  see  no 
other  way;  common  means  will  not  do."  While  on 
this  visit  he  made  arrangements  to  build  in  Balti- 
more the  first  church  for  negroes  in  that  city,  and,  I 
think,  the  first  in  the  United  States. 

He  was  very  low  in  health  and  still,  he  says,  under 
awful  depression.  ^^I  am  not  conscious,"  he  says, 
"of  any  sin,  even  in  thought,  but  the  imprudence  and 
unfaithfulness  of  some  bear  heavily  on  my  heart." 

He  made  a  visit  to  the  eastern  shore  to  his  friends, 
the  Ennalls,  in  Dorchester,  and  then  passed  througli 
Delaware  to  Philadelphia.  On  his  way  be  called  on 
the  good  sister  Withey,  "  who  kept  the  best  inn  on  the 
continent,  and  who  had  entertained  him  wlien  he 
made  bis  first  journey  southward;"  and  one  is  sorry 
to  hear  that  the  good  old  sister  was  not  well,  and  in 
trouble. 

These  little  personal  allusions  ghow  thfi  tender  na- 
ture of  the  fearle^g,.0tronpf-hoadodj  and  gtronfr- willed 
man  who  bore  nil  th.e  burden  of  the  oonneeiion  on  \m 
11 


162  Francis  As  duet. 

heart.  One  of  his  entries  is  especially  amusing  in 
the  light  of  the  full  information  he  has  given  us  of 
his  use  of  the  many  and  various  remedies  for  his 
often  infirmities.  He  says:  "I  came  to  Elizabeth- 
tov^n  and  found  brother  Morrel,  who  had  been  hied 
and  physicked  almost  to  death,  on  the  road  to  re- 
covery." He  no^w  went  through  New  York  and  into 
New  England.  Roberts  was  still  with  him,  but  part- 
ed from  him  when  he  entered  Vermont,  which  ho 
now  for  the  first  time  visited.  He  preached  at  Ben- 
nington and  went  to  Ash  Grove,  in  New  York,  to 
which  place  the  good  Embury  had  removed  from 
New  York  City,  and  in  which  he  died.  He  w^as  now 
in  northern  New  York,  and  at  Plattsburg  he  had  a 
high  day.  As  he  descended  the  Hudson,  he  came 
to  his  brother  Garrettson's  at  Rhinebeck.  Garrett- 
son,  by  his  marriage  with  Miss  Livingston,  had  come 
into  possession  of  a  large  property.  He  used  it  well, 
and  never  relaxed  his  ministerial  efforts  to  the  end 
of  his  useful  life,  tw^enty  years  after  this. 

Governor  Van  Cortlandt,  Asbury's  early  friend, 
lived  near  Garrettson,  and  he  dined  with  him.  On 
his  return  southward  he  passed  through  New  Jersey, 
and  when  he  heard  of  a  fight  in  which  the  one  party 
had  his  eye  gouged  out,  and  another  had  his  nose  and 
ear  cut  off,  he  concluded  that  Jersey  was  worse  than 
New  England,  for  at  least  they  were  civil  there. 
The  Conference  met  in  Philadelphia,  and  remained 
in  session  a  week.  Asbury  then  came  by  Chester, 
w^here  we  are  glad  to  find  that  his  old  friend,  Mary 
Withey,  had  made  an  advantageous  sale  of  her  inn, 
and  in  three  weeks  was  to  give  place  to  the  pur- 
chaser. 

The    Baltimore    Conference,    with    its    fifty  -  five 


Francis  Asbuuy.  1G3 

preachers,  met  ou  Tuesday  and  remained  in  session 
till  Friday  night. 

The  Africans  in  whom  he  had  taken  such  an  inter- 
est, and  whose  new  church  he  had  helped  forward, 
now  asked  greater  privileges  than  white  stewards  or 
trustees  ever  had  a  right  to  ask.    . 

In  his  journal  of  this  year  he  mentions,  as  far  as  I 
can  tind,  the  first  bequest  made  to  the  Church  by 
anyone  in  America.  It  was  made  by  Stephen  Da- 
vies,  of  Virginia,  and  Asbury  was  made  his  trustee. 
At  Salem,  in  Brunswick,  the  Virginia  Conference 
was  held.  After  its  close  he  made  his  way  through 
North  Carolina.  On  his  journey,  he  saj  s  of  one  da.y's 
travel:  "M^^  feet  were  wet,  my  body  cold,  and  my 
stomach  empty,  having  had  no  dinner.  I  found  a 
good  fire,  a  warm  bed,  and  a  little  medicine,  each 
necessary  in  its  place."  ''No  people,"  he  says  of  the 
good  North  Carolinians,  "make  you  more  welcome  to 
th  4r  homes."  "After  riding  twenty  miles,  I  preached 
at  father  V.'s.  I  felt  strangely  set  at  liberty,  and 
was  uncommonly  happy." 

He  says  of  Georgetown,  South  Carolina,  that  after 
ten  years  of  circuit  preaching  they  had  done  but  lit- 
tle, but  that  if  we  could  station  a  preacher  there  he 
still  hoped  for  success.  Brother  Cannon  had  not  la- 
bored in  vain.  There  was  now  less  dancing,  and  the 
playhouse  was  closed.  He  had  brought  with  him 
from  Virginia  Benjamin  Blanton,  and  he  had  him  to 
preach,  and  "we  had,"  he  says,  "a  number  of  very 
modest  and  attentive  hearers."  He  now  reached 
Charleston,  to  be  ready  for*the  South  Carolina  Con- 
ference, w^hich  was  to  meet  there. 

As  he  was  traveling  through  Virginia  where  there 
was  quite  a  number  of  Quakers,  he  found  time  to  ad- 


164  Francis  As  bury, 

dress  one  of  them  in  a  plain,  outspoken  letter,  v/liich 
Strickland  has  given  us  in  his  ''Pioneer  Bishop." 
It  very  strikingly  illustrates  the  character  of  the 
good  bishop,  and  casts  some  light  upon  the  histo- 
ry of  the  times.  It  was  written,  says  Strickland, 
to  a  friend  in  Delaware : 

Newton,  Va.,  Seventh  Month,  1795. 

My  Yenj  Dear  Friend:  If  I  have  a  partiality  for  any  people 
in  the  world  except  the  Methodists,  it  is  for  the  Quakers,  so 
called.  Their  plainness  of  dress,  their  love  of  justice  and 
truth,  their  friendship  to  each  other,  and  the  care  they  take 
of  one  another,  render  them  worthy  of  praise.  Would  it  not 
he  of  use  for  that  society  that  makes  it  a  point  not  to  come 
near  any  others,  whether  good  or  bad,  to  try  all  means  within 
themselves — would  it  not  be  well,  thinkest  thou,  for  them 
to  sit  every  night  and  morning,  and,  if  they  find  liberty,  to  go 
to  prayer  after  reading  a  portion  of  God's  word?  As  epistles 
are  read  from  the  Friends,  would  it  not  be  well  to  introduce 
the  reading  of  some  portion  of  the  Scriptures  at  public 
meetings?  Would  it  not  be  well  to  have  a  congregation  and 
a  society,  an  outer  and  an  inner  court?  In  the  former,  let 
children  and  servants  and  unawakened  people  come;  in  the 
inv/ard,  let  mourners  in  Zion  come. 

The  Presbyterians  have  reformed;  the  Episcopalians  and 
the  Methodists.    Why  should  not  the  Friends? 

It  was  a  dark  time  one  hundred  and  fifty  years  back.  We 
are  near  the  edge  of  the  wilderness.  If  this  inward  court  or 
society  were  divided  into  small  bands  or  classes,  and  to  be 
called  together  weekly  by  men  and  women  of  the  deepest  ex- 
perience and  appointed  for  that  work,  and  asked  about  their 
souls  and  the  dealings  of  God  with  them.,  and  to  join  in 
prayer  one  or  two  or  all  of  them  that  have  freedom,  I  think 
rhe  Lord  would  com.e  upon  them.  I  give  this  advice  as  the 
real  friend  of  your  souls,  as  there  are  huntlreds  and  thousands 
that  never  have  nor  will  come  near  others.  These  might  get 
more  religion  if  your  people  were  to  hear  others;  they  might 
get  properly  awakened;  and  if  you  had  close  meetings  for 
speaking,  they  would  not  leave  you.  Yon  must  not  think 
that  G.  Fox  and  R.  Barclay  were  the  only  men  in  the  world. 


Francis  As  bury.  165 

I  am  sure  there  must  be  a  reform  if  you  could  move  it  in 
quarterly  and  yearly  meetings  for  family  and  society  meet- 
ings, and  adopt  rules  for  these  meetings. 

Would  it  be  well,  thinkest  thou,  to  preach  against  covet- 
Gusness?  God  has  blessed  Friends.  They  are  a  temperate, 
industrious,  and  frugal  people.  Tell  them  to  feed  the  hun- 
gry, clothe  the  naked,  visit  the  sick,  and  always  feel  the  spir- 
it of  prayer  at  such  times.  Would  it  not  be  well  to  deliver  a 
testimony  at  other  places  if  Friends  felt  freedom,  and  allow 
others  to  come  into  their  meetings  without  forbidding  them? 
Our  houses  are  open  to  any  that  come  in  a  Christian  spirit. 

I  wish  Methodists  and  Friends  would  be  a  stronger  testi- 
mony against  races,  fairs,  pla.ys,  and  balls.  I  wish  they 
w^ould  reprove  swearing,  lying,  and  foolish  talking:  watch 
their  young  people  in  tlieir  companies,  instruct  them  in  the 
doctrines  of  the  Church,  call  upon  them  to  feel  after  the 
spirit  of  prayer  morning  and  evening,  and  strive  to  bring 
them  to  God.  If  I  know  my  own  heart,  I  write  from  love  to 
souls;  and  although  it  is  the  general  cry,  "You  can  do  noth- 
ing with  these  people,"  I  wish  to  lay  before  you  these  things, 
which  I  think  are  contrary  to  the  ancient  principles  of 
Friends,  and  I  am  sure  that  we  are  taught  them  in  the  word 
of  God.  Think  upon  them.  My  soul  pities  and  loves  you. 
You  may  fit^ht  against  God  in  not  inculcating  these  things. 

I  am,  with  real  friendship  to  thee  and  thy  people, 

Francis  Asbuey. 


CHAPTEH  XXIII. 

1796. 

South  Carolina  —  Georgia — North  CaroUna  —  Tennessee  — Vir- 
ginia— Views  of  Education — Bridal  Party  in  the  Mountains 
— Methodism  in  Brooklyn — Southward  Again — Francis  Acuff. 

THE  Conference  met  in  Charleston  in  January, 
1796,  and  Asbury  rested  here  longer  than  any 
time  in  his  journeyings.  He  was  virtually  a  pastor 
of  the  little  flock,  and  i)aid  great  attention  to  tlie 
blacks,  who  composed  so  large  a  part  of  it.  He  met 
the  slaves  in  the  kitchen  of  Mr.  Wells  and  in  the 
church,  where  he  had  often  two  hundred  and  fifty  in 
love  feast.  He  had  few  social  qualities,  and  what 
time  he  did  not  spend  in  regular  pastoral  work  he 
spent  in  reading.  All  w^ell  acquainted  with  Ameri- 
can history  know  that  Washington  at  this  time  was 
not  popular  with  many  of  the  American  people, 
who  thought  he  leaned  too  much  to  the  English  and 
the  aristocracy.  This  incensed  the  sturdy  bishop, 
who  expressed  a  somewhat  burning  indignation  at 
those  wlio  detracted  from  one  lie  so  highly  esteemed. 
As  usual,  when  he  was  sedentary  and  spent  much 
time  in  retrospection,  he  was  despondent,  as  he  says: 
''For  my  unholiness  and  unfaithfulness  my  soul  is 
humbled.  Were  I  to  stand  on  my  own  merit,  where 
should  I  go  but  to  hell?" 

After  a  month  in  Charleston,  he  started  to  Angus 

ta.     The  country  through  which  he  rode  was  very 

flat,  and  it  had  been  a  season  of  heavy  rains.     The 

creeks  and  rivers  were  full,  and  his  feet  were  contin- 

(165) 


.F BAN  CIS  ASBUBY,  1G7 

ually  wet.  But  despite  his  wet  feet,  and  despite  tlie 
severity  of  the  weather,  he  preached  in  an  open  house 
as  he  was  on  his  way,  and  administered  the  sacra 
ment.  He  reached  Augusta,  and  found  that  one  of 
those  occasional  floods  which  mark  the  Savannah 
had  inundated  the  streets.  He  said  if  they  would 
know  his  just  view  they  would  mob  him,  for  he  be- 
lieved it  an  "African  flood,  sent  on  them  because  of 
slavery."  He  rode  through  a  few  of  the  upper  east- 
ern counties  of  Georgia  and  reentered  South  Caro- 
lina. Here  he  was  concerned  about  a  free  school, 
called  Bethel,  out  of  which  Cokesbury  came,  and 
afterwards  Wofford  College.  Dr.  Bangs,  who  was  a 
great  admirer  of  Asbury,  says  that  one  of  the  errors 
of  his  life  was  his  failure  to  value  education.  I  can- 
not think  this  stricture  is  just.  He  planned  schools 
over  the  whole  connection.  There  were  Ebenezer  in 
Virginia,  Cokesbury  in  Maryland,  Bethel  in  Ken- 
tucky, Bethel  in  South  Carolina,  Cokesbury  in  North 
Carolina,  and  Wesley  and  Whitefield  in  Georgia.  If 
these  enterprises  failed,  as  they  did,  largely,  it  was 
not  for  his  want  of  interest,  but  experience  taught 
him  that  there  were  some  things  he  could  not  do, 
and  he  wisely  left  the  local  Conferences  to  provide 
for  their  own  needs.  Passing  out  of  South  Carolina, 
he  entered  the  mountains  of  western  North  Carolina. 
The  rides  were  long,  and  homes  were  few,  and  he 
mentions  a  dinner  of  dried  peach  pies  that  he  and  his 
companions  made  in  the  woods.  The  society  in  that 
section  was  rude,  and  he  writes  of  a  jolly  bridal  party 
he  met,  with  their  flag,  a  white  handkerchief,  flying 
as  they  dashed  by  him  and  paused  at  a  distillery  to 
fill  up  with  new-made  apple  brandy.  He  was  soon  in 
Tennessee,  at  Acuff's  ChaBel,  built  bv  Francis  AcufT, 


168  FliANCIS  As  BURY, 

who  was  first  a  fiddler,  then  a  Christian,  then  a 
preacher,  and  then,  he  trusts,  a  glorified  saint.  The 
journey  was  much  the  same  as  he  had  made  several 
times  before,  leading  him  through  the  mountains 
of  northeast  Tennessee  and  southwest  Virginia. 
Sometimes  he  rode  for  forty  miles  without  finding  a 
place  to  break  his  fast.  A  very  fatiguing  journey 
was  made  through  Greenbrier  and  northwest  Vir- 
ginia into  Pennsylvania;  the  Conference  met  at 
ITniontown,  and  then  through  western  Maryland  he 
came  to  Cokesbury,  where  he  beheld  the  ruins  of 
the  building  which  had  cost  him  so  much  anxiety 
and  toil.  For  nearly  twelve  years  it  had  been  an  un- 
ceasing care  to  him,  and  it  is  not  likely  that  he  wept 
scalding  tears  over  the  death  of  the  feeble  invalid. 
It  was  now  the  midst  of  summer,  and  he  hurried 
through  the  heat  northward. 

When  he  reached  New  York,  he  spent  some  days 
in  visiting  chapels,  and  preached  in  the  village  of 
JJrooklyn,  where  the  Methodists  were  trying  to  get 
a  foothold.  The  General  Conference  of  1790  met  in 
October.  The  presiding  elder  matter  was  not  any 
more  agreeable  than  it  had  been  at  the  first,  and 
there  was  a  stroke  at  it  as  there  was  afterwards  for 
many  years,  but  it  came  to  naught.  The  deter- 
mined man  had  his  will  in  this  matter  as  in  most 
others, -but  not  without  a  contest.  He  came  from 
Baltimore  southward  through  the  coast  counties  of 
Virginia,  North  and  South  Carolina,  and  held  a  meet- 
ing at  New  Berne,  North  Carolina,  on  his  way  to 
Charleston.  He  predicted  future  greatness  for  the 
young  seaport,  and  was  much  pleased  at  the  kind- 
ness he  received  from  the  people.  There  was  little 
of  incident  in  his  journey  to  Charleston,  but  when 


Francis  Asbury.  169 

he  reached  the  city  he  heard  the  stuuning  news  that 
the  ne^v  church  in  Baltimore  and  the  new  college 
jnst  built  near  by  were  burned,  and  a  loss  of  twenty 
thousand  dollars  had  fallen  on  the  society  and  the 
Church.  No  wonder,  with  the  burning  of  two  col- 
leges and  the  failure  of  another,  the  good  bisho]] 
should  have  felt  that  he  was  not  called  to  build  them, 
and  retired  forever  from  the  business  of  doing  so. 
He  had  met  every  appointment  during  the  year,  and 
had  traveled  from  Charleston  to  Boston  and  from 
the  Atlantic  coast  to  the  mountains  of  Kentucky. 
It  had  been  a  year  of  excessive  exposure  and  toil. 
The  story  of  his  journeys  is,  after  all,  the  chief  story 
of  his  laborious  life,  and  one  must  refer  to  his  homely 
but  invaluable  journal  to  get  a  true  insight  into  the 
social  and  religious  history  of  America  at  that  time. 
No  man  of  his  day  traveled  so  muchf  or  so  minutely 
tells  what  he  saw  of  the  people,  but  one  who  looks 
for  startling  or  even  striking  incident  in  his  story 
will  be  disappointed. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

1191. 

Charleston — Sickness — Northward  Journey— Breaks  Down  in 
Kentucky — Reaches  Baltimore  —  Goes  on  His  Tour  North- 
ward— Jesse  Lee — Returns  South — Gives  Up  at  Brunswick, 
Virginia,  and  Retires  for  the  Winter. 

SINCE  Mr.  Asbury's  election  to  the  bishopric, 
while  never  very  well,  he  had  been  able  to  do 
all  the  heavy  work  demanded  of  him ;  but  be  was  now 
(in  1797)  attacked  by  a  long-protracted  and  severe 
intermittent  fever,  which  came  near  ending  his  life. 
He  had  reached  Charleston,  January,  1797,  in  com- 
pany with  Dr.  Goke,  in  his  usual  health.  The  winter 
was  very  severe,  and  he  was  much  exi30sed.  His  old 
friend  Edgar  Wells,  who  had  done  so  much  for  the 
church  in  Charleston,  was  very  ill,  and  died  not  long 
after  Asbury  reached  the  city.  Asbury  attended  his 
funeral  service  and  paid  his  tribute  to  the  good  man's 
memory,  and  then  was  himself  attacked,  as  he  had 
been  in  Maryland  years  before,  with  a  severe  and 
persistent  intermittent  fever.  He  was  kindly  attend- 
ed by  Dr.  David  Ramsay,  the  famous  historian, 
and  as  skillfully  treated  as  the  science  of  that  day 
permitted.  He  would  take  the  nauseous  remedies 
prescribed,  and  get  out  of  bed  and  work  till  his  chill 
came  on  and  the  fever  followed.  He  tried  to  meet 
the  negroes  every  morning  at  six  o'clock  for  morning 
prayer,  and  preached  as  often  as  he  could.  He 
planned  the  erection  of  another  house  in  another 
part  of  the  city,  and  put  the  matter  in  such  shape 
(170) 


Francis  Asbuhy.  171 

that  Bethel  church  was  the  outcome.  He  was  anx- 
ious to  get  away  from  Charleston.  The  Holston  and 
Kentucky  work  seemed  to  demand  his  presence,  and 
he  was  impatient  at  confinement  in  the  city.  Late  in 
February,  somewhat  better  in  health,  he  turned  his 
face  toward  the  northw^est.  He  was  delighted  to  be 
in  the  woods  once  more.  The  southern  spring  was 
in  its  glory.  The  white  dogwood,  the  golden  jas- 
mine, the  red  bud,  the  earliest  of  the  flowering  forest, 
were  in  bloom.  He  hailed  them  with  the  delight  of 
an  escaped  captive.  He  said  he  came  to  a  gentle- 
man's house  and  found  them  playing  cards.  He 
asked  for  dinner,  but  said  blunt  Frank  Asbury  could 
not  dine  on  cards;  whereupon  they  politely  put  them 
aside.  On  his  way  to  Rembert's  his  feet  were 
steeped  as  he  swam  the  creeks, but  he  seems  not  then 
to  have  experienced  the  ill  effects  of  his  exposure. 
Leaving  Camden,  he  turned  his  course  northwest- 
wardly, aiming  at  the  part  of  East  Tennessee  in 
which  the  Holston  Conference  was  to  meet.  After 
he  left  Iredell  Courthouse  (now  Statesville),  in  west- 
ern North  Carolina,  he  found  himself  in  the  rugged 
mountains,  in  the  severe  weather  of  early  March. 
The  exposure  was  very  great.  The  weather  was 
stormy,  the  streams  were  dangerous,  the  ascent  of 
the  mountains  was  made  with  great  difficulty  and 
the  descent  with  greater.  He  had  an  inflamed  limb; 
he  was  crippled  with  rheumatism;  it  was  impossible 
for  him  to  walk,  and  dangerous  to  ride.  There  were 
very  poor  accommodations  for  man  or  beast,  and  he 
was  really  a  ver-y  sick  man.  He  pressed  on,  how- 
ever, to  the  seat  of  the  Holston  Conference  and  held 
the  session.  He  intended  to  go  on  to  Kentucky,  but 
his  brethren  insisted  that  he  should  not  attempt  it; 


172  Francis  As  bury. 

and  reluctantly,  after  sending  Kobier  to  take  Ills 
place  tliere,  lie  decided  to  try  to  reach  Baltimore. 
He  and  Ms  companions  began  their  weary  journey 
eastward.  The  fever  returned  and  held  him  thirty 
hours.  After  a  ride  of  forty  miles,  he  reached  the 
hospitable  home  of  his  lifelong  friend,  Madam  Eus- 
sell.  One  could  not  but  hope  that  the  sick  and 
weary  man  would  have  rested  here;  but  he  preached 
the  day  after  he  came,  and  only  remained  two  days, 
and  then  began  his  journey  again.  He  found  good 
homes  along  the  way,  and  although  he  could  make 
but  slow  progress,  yet  by  riding  ten  and  fifteen  miles 
a  day  he  managed  to  make  the  journey.  His  diet,  he 
said,  was  tea,  potatoes,  gruel,  and  chicken  broth; 
but  in  two  months'  time  he  had  gone  over  the  moun- 
tains and  through  the  valleys  to  Baltimore.  At  the 
home  of  brother  Hawkins,  a  mile  from  the  city,  he 
found  a  resting  place. 

His  old  friends  in  Maryland,  rich  and  poor,  crowded 
around  him  ministering  to  his  comfort  in  every  way 
in  their  power.  He  rode  out  every  day,  led  a  prayer 
meeting  when  he  could,  preached  a  few  short  ser- 
mons, and  visited  his  old  friends.  The  Goughs  sent 
their  chariot  for  him  to  come  to  Perry  Hall,  and  he 
went  and  spoke  freely  about  his  soul  to  his  old  friend, 
who  seems  to  have  backslidden.  He  talked  to  the 
negro  servants,  wrote  a  few  letters,  and  w^as  able 
on  Sunday  to  preach  at  Gough's.  Mr.  Gough  now 
detailed  a  negro  servant  to  go  with  him  to  Mr.  Sher- 
idan's in  Cecil  county,  and  he  sent  another  wath  him 
to  Wilmington,  and  from  thence  he  went  in  his  sulky 
to  Philadelphia.  He  could  not  be  idle,  but  all  ex- 
ertion threw  him  back.  He,  however,  managed  to 
i?et  to  the  widow  Sherwood's  in  New  York ;  and  find- 


Feancis  As  bury,  173 

ing  himself  swelling  in  the  face,  bowels,  and  feet,  he 
applied  leaves  of  burdock  and  drew  a  desperate  blis- 
ter with  a  mustard  plaster.  He  had  such  very  sore 
feet  that  only  after  two  weeks  was  he  able  to  set 
them  on  the  ground.  He  was  confined  for  two  weeks, 
when  he  made  the  effort  to  reach  Wilbraham,  Massa- 
chusetts; but  he  was  not  able  to  make  the  journey, 
and  Joshua  Wells  w  ent  on  for  him  while  he  recruited 
at  the  widow^  Sherwood's.  He  said  he  could  write  a 
little,  but  for  two  months  he  had  not  preached.  He 
grew  despondent,  and  complains  gentl}'  that  he  is 
left  too  much  alone.  ''  Lord,  help  me,"  he  says ;  "  I  am 
poor  and  needy.  The  hand  of  God  hath  touched  me." 
A  few  days  after  this  season  of  depression  his  sky 
was  brighter.  "The  clouds,"  he  says  "are  dispelled 
from  my  mind.  Oh,  that  my  future  life  may  be  holi- 
ness to  the  Lord!  I  washed  to  speak  to  a  poor  Af- 
rican whom  I  saw  in  the  field.  I  went  out,  and  as  I 
came  along  on  my  return  he  was  at  a  stone  wall, 
eight  or  ten  feet  of  me.  Poor  creature!  He  seemed 
struck  at  my  counsel,  and  gave  me  thanks.  Oh,  it 
was  going  down  into  the  Egypt  of  South  Carolina 
after  these  poor  souls  of  Africans,  and  I  have  lost  my 
health,  if  not  my  life.  In  the  end.  The  will  of  the 
Lord  be  done."  The  members  of  this  good  family 
w^ere  especially  kind  to  him,  and  he  mentions  them 
by  name.  Mamma,  Betsey,  Jonathan,  and  Bishop 
deserve  to  be  held  in  lasting  memory  for  their  great 
kindness  to  the  suffering  apostle. 

He  detailed  Jesse  Lee  to  travel  with  him,  and  to- 
gether they  began  their  journey  southward.  He  was 
very  unwell,  and  made  no  effort  to  preside  at  the 
Conference,  leaving  this  office,  as  he  says,  to  the  pre- 
siding elders.     He  made  the  appointments,  and  man- 


174  Francis  Asbury, 

aged  to  preach  a  few  times.  After  he  had  presided 
over  the  Baltimore  Conference,  he  began  his  weary 
journey  to  the  south;  and  sick  as  he  was^  he  man- 
aged to  keep  in  motion  until  after  he  had  made  half 
the  journey  to  Charleston.  He  had  reached  Bruns- 
wick county,  Virginia,  when  it  became  evident  that 
if  he  attempted  to  go  on  he  w^ould  likely  forfeit  his 
life,  and  reluctantly  he  yielded  to  the  inevitable. 
For  nearly  twelve  months  he  had  been  seriously  ill, 
and  yet  he  had  persisted  in  working.  But  it  was  ev- 
ident to  all  that  if  he  ever  did  any  more  work  he  must 
now  seek  a  shelter.  So  he  prepared  his  plan  of  ap- 
pointments for  the  South  Carolina  Conference  and 
sent  it  by  Jesse  Lee  to  Jonathan  Jackson,  and  re- 
solved to  lie  by  in  Brunswick  for  the  winter.  He 
could  not  have  found  a  better  place  for  resting. 
Brunswick  was  the  home  of  the  Methodists.  Here 
they  had  won  their  greatest  victories.  The  people 
were  all  known  to  him,  and  were  all  his  friends.  He 
fixed  his  retreat  at  the  home  of  Edward  Dromgoole. 
Edward  Dromgoole  was  an  Irishman;  a  local 
preacher  who  had  traveled  for  some  years  and  now 
was  living  on  a  plantation  of  his  own.  His  circum- 
stances were  easy,  and  he  w^as  glad  to  give  his  old 
friend  a  home  during  these  w^eary  days  of  invalid 
life.  Dr.  Sims  kindly  attended  him,  and  the  local 
preachers,  Lane,  Moore,  Smith,  and  Phillips,  came 
to  see  him  and  cheer  him  up.  He  was  in  confine- 
ment here  for  three  months.  He  was  not  confined 
to  his  bed,  but  was  unable  to  go  far  from  the  house. 
The  weather  was  very  severe,  and  he  was  very  fee- 
ble. He  took  fearful  quantities  of  medicine.  Tar- 
tar emetic  in  large  doses  was  his  favorite  remedy, 
and  the  exhausted,  feeble  man  was  well  bled  by  his 


Francis  Asbvry.  175 

kind  physician;  and  at  last  he  took  a  diet,  as  he 
calls  it,  which  was  so  remarkable  that  it  deserves 
mention.  It  was  one  quart  of  hard  cider;  one  hun- 
dred nails;  a  handful  of  snakeroot;  a  handful  of 
pennell  seed;  a  handful  of  wormwood.  Boiled  from 
one  quart  to  a  pint,  one  wine  glassful  was  taken 
every  morning  for  nine  or  ten  days,  the  patient  using 
no  butter  or  milk  or  meat.  He  says,  what  one  max- 
well believe:  "It  will  make  the  stomach  very  sick." 

Confined  to  a  quiet  country  home,  he  had  much 
time  for  reflection,  and  he  tried  to  solve  some  very 
hard  questions.  "How  could  God  have  condoned 
polygamy,  slavery,  and  such  like,  under  the  earlier 
dispensation,  and  condemned  them  now?"  He  an- 
swered these  questions  perhaps  as  well  as  any  oth- 
ers have  been  able  to  answer  them.  He  drew  the 
conclusion  that  while  men  may  of  two  evils  choose 
the  least,  Christians  should  of  two  evils  choose  nei- 
ther. He  w^as  especially  puzzled  on  the  question  of 
slave-owning.  No  man  was  ever  more  bitterly  op- 
posed to  slavery;  no  man  was  on  better  terms  with 
slave  owners.  They  were  his  dearest  friends,  and 
in  their  piety  he  had  the  greatest  confidence.  They 
knew  his  views  and  respected  them,  but  did  not 
emancipate  their  slaves.  Despite  all  his  efforts,  the 
sentiment  in  favor  of  immediate  emancipation  did 
not  grow.  He  says:  "I  am  brought  to  conclude  that 
slavery  will  exist  in  Virginia  perhaps  for  ages. 
There  is  not  sufficient  sense  of  religion  nor  of  liberty 
to  destroy  it.  Methodists,  Baptists,  Presbyterians, 
in  the  highest  flights  of  rapturous  piety,  still  main- 
tain and  defend  it."  He  realized  the  character  of 
his  peculiar  situation  —  denouncing  slavery,  yt^t 
friendly  with  slave  owners,  and  supported  by  the 


176  Francis  As  bury. 

proceeds  of  slave  labor.  And  sometimes  he  frets 
under  it,  feeling  that  it  almost  made  a  slave  of  him, 
vrhen  he  was  free  born. 

He  could  do  little.  He  wrote  a  few  letters,  read 
his  Bible,  and  wrote  up  his  journal.  The  class  met 
at  his  home,  and  he  ventured  to  give  a  short  exhor- 
tation and  a  prayer.  Despite  his  diet  and  his  heroic 
doses  of  tartar,  he  did  not  recover  his  strength;  and 
as  he  was  confined  to  the  house,  he  assisted  the  good 
dame  in  winding  broaches  and  picking  cotton.  In 
those  days  there  w^ere  no  cotton  gins,  and  the  cotton 
which  made  the  clothing  was  prepared  by  hand  for 
the  loom,  and  to  the  little  children  v/as  committed 
the  tedious  task  of  winding  broaches.  The  sick 
bishop  spent  his  time  in  helping  them  in  this  work, 
and  spent  a  little  time  in  revising  his  journal.  His 
brethren  sent  him  loving  letters,  which  cheered  him 
up.  His  feebleness  and  his  confinement  depressed 
him ;  but  while  he  v^as  with  the  women  and  children, 
winding  cotton  and  hearing  them  read  Alleine  and 
Doddridge,  his  soul  was  much  blessed.  The  snow  fell 
and  he  was  low-spirited;  but  good  Betsey  and  Nancy 
Pelham,  young  Yirginia  maids,  helped  him  by  read- 
ing to  him  Doddridge's  Sermons  to  Young  People. 

Thus  matters  went  on  in  Brunswick,  where,  in 
the  homes  of  Pelham  and  Dromgoole,  he  spent  the 
whole  winter  of  1797.  He  scorned  to  be  idle,  and 
spent  his  days  in  teaching  the  children  grammar 
and  in  little  tasks  around  the  home  until  the  last 
of  March,  w^hen  he  began  to  venture  out  again.  He 
was  now  so  far  recruited  as  to  enter  upon  his  w^ork; 
and  while  he  did  not  fully  recover  his  strength,  he 
was  able  to  do  efficient  work  for  over  ten  years  after 
this  trying  attack. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

1798. 

Asbury  Out  of  His  Sick  Room — Recovery — Views  on  Slavery^ 
On  Local  Preachers — Some  of  His  Mistakes — Virginia  Con- 
ference— O'Kelly — Tour  Northward — Death  of  Dickins. 

THE  early  spring  of  1789  found  Asbury  able  to 
stir  out  again.  He  was  in  the  midst  of  slave 
owners,  and  these  were  Ms  kind  friends;  but,  as  we 
have  seen,  he  was  by  no  means  reconciled  to  slavery, 
and  was  as  decided  as  ever  that  it  should,  if  possible, 
be  abolished;  and  when  Philip  Sands  visited  him,  he 
consulted  with  him  about  taking  some  measures  to 
drive  it  at  least  from  the  local  ministry.  There 
w^ere  few,  perhaps  none,  of  the  traveling  preachers 
who  owned  slaves  or  were  likely  to  own  any;  but  the 
local  preachers,  w^ho  were  more  numerous,  and  who 
were  men  of  families,  were,  many  of  them,  owners 
of  plantations  worked  by  slaves. 

Asbury  never  seemed  to  think  that  a  slave  under 
the  guardianship  of  a  pious  local  preacher  might 
have  been  better  off  than  if  he  were  free.  He  came 
to  that  conclusion  in  after  years,  but  now  he  was  for 
rooting  the  evil  out  by  stern  measures,  and  succeed- 
ed not  in  getting  rid  of  slavery,  but  in  driving  from 
the  Church  some  excellent  people.  "Some  of  our 
local  preachers,"  he  says,  "complain  that  they  have 
not  a  seat  in  the  general  Annual  Conference.  We 
answer,  if  they  will  do  the  duty  of  a  member  of  the 
Annual  Conference,  they  may  have  the  seat  and 
privilege  of  the  traveling  line.  The  local  preachers 
12  (177) 


178  Francis  As  bury. 

go  where  and  when  they  please;  can  preach  any- 
where, or  nowhere;  can  keep  pUmtations  and  slaves; 
can  receive  fifty  or  a  hundred  dollars  per  year  for 
marriages,  and  all  the  fees  we  re<ieive  we  must  re- 
turn at  the  Conference."  He  was  confident  that  the 
law  for  traveling  preachers  and  that  for  lay  preach- 
ers should  be  different. 

Mr.  Asbury  was  not  very  much  given  to  look  on 
two  sides  of  a  question  at  the  same  time.  Indeed, 
to  him  moral  questions  had  but  two  sides;  one  was 
the  right,  the  other  the  wrong  side,  and  he  did  noi 
care  to  see  any  but  the  side  he  thought  was  right. 
He  knew  it  was  wrong  for  the  ministry  to  be  covet- 
ous or  self-indulgent,  or  eager  for  human  prais^^; 
and  it  never  seemed  to  occur  to  him  that  in  his  effort 
to  provide  a  ministry,  who  knew  nothing  but  self- 
abnegation,  he  might  educate  a  membership  to  grasp 
and  hold  and  develop  in  themselves  a  selfishness 
which  demanded  everything  and  gave  nothing. 
Some  of  his  members  in  Maryland  and  Virginia 
could  have  paid  the  entire  salary  or  quarterage  of 
his  preacher  with  a  week's  income,  but  that  member 
would  content  himself  with  his  quarterly  contribu- 
tion of  a  contemptible  sum,  and  rejoice  in  the  herx)- 
ism  of  the  self-sacrificing  itinerant.  Sixty-four  dol- 
lars, and  no  more,  was  the  allowance  to  pastor,  bish- 
op, or  elder.  If  the  people  gave  either  of  them  any- 
thing, he  must  report  that  to  the  Conference,  and  it 
should  be  deducted  from  his  stipend.  If  he  was  un- 
fortunately married,  his  wife  should  have  the  same 
allowance,  and  his  children  not  fourteen  years  old 
should  have  sixteen  dollars.  If  over  that,  they  must 
take  care  of  themselves.  He  knew  sixty-four  dol- 
lars was  enough  for  a  single  man  with  tastes  as  sim- 


Francis  As  bury.  179 

pie  as  liis  own;  with  that  he  could  buj  books  and 
clothing  and  a  horse  now  and  then.  If  one  had 
slaves  he  must  free  them,  a  farm  he  must  leave  it. 
In  all  this  the  good  bishop  saw  only  the  noble  spirit 
of  self-sacrifice  on  the  part  of  his  guild,  and  by  such 
demands  he  did  develop  a  nobility  of  soul  and  an  he- 
roic unselfishness  unsurpassed  since  the  days  of  the 
early  apostles.  The  effect  upon  the  Church,  howev- 
er, was  so  harmful  that  it  was  a  long  time  before  a 
proper  reaction  came.  Whether  that  reaction  has 
not  gone  too  far  is  a  question  still  unsettled.  The 
Baptists  and  the  Quakers,  in  their  opposition  to  a 
hireling  ministry,  were  seconded  by  the  early  Meth- 
odists in  their  cheap  gospel.  The  compulsory  tax 
to  support  priests,  levied  over  the  entire  country  by 
the  Established  Church,  aroused  the  spirit  of  oppo- 
sition to  a  salaried  ministry,  which  gave  great  ex- 
cuse in  after  time  for  men  to  cover  their  avarice  un- 
der the  guise  of  religious  simplicity.  A  fair  biog- 
raphy must  exhibit  the  weaknesses  of  the  subject, 
if  they  exist,  as  well  as  the  excellences,  but  Asbury's 
failings  leaned  to  virtue's  side.  He  had  been  a  sad- 
dler— it  was  certainly  not  to  his  discredit  that  he 
had  been;  and  poor,  deranged  William  Glendening, 
who  had  an  insane  hostility  to  him,  told  it  as  if  it 
was  something  to  be  ashamed  of.  Asbury  says:  "A 
friend  of  mine  was  inquisitive  of  my  trade  and  ap- 
prenticeship, as  William  Glendening  had  reported. 
As  he  asked  me  so  plainly,  I  told  him  that  I  counted 
it  no  reproach  to  have  been  taught  to  get  my  own 
living." 

He  was  able  to  get  to  Salem  in  Brunswick,  where 
the  Virginia  Conference  met,  and  then  rode  slowly 
toward    Baltimore,  trying  to  preach  as  he  went. 


180  '  Francis  As  bury. 

There  was  yet  no  Methodist  church  in  the  city  of 
Kichmond,  but  he  preached  in  the  courthouse.  He 
reached  Baltimore  on  the  25th  of  April.  The  Con- 
ference began  May  2.  He  says:  "It  was  half-yearly, 
to  bring  on  an  equality  by  the  change  from  fall  to 
spring.  We  had  to  correct  the  many  offenses  giv- 
en at  many  Conferences  to  one  particular  man.  1 
pleased  myself  with  the  idea  that  I  was  out  of  the 
quarrel;  but  no,  1  was  in  deeper  than  ever,  and  never 
was  wounded  in  so  deep  a  manner.  It  was  as  much 
as  I  could  bear.     I  cannot  stand  such  strokes." 

I  confess  my  inability  to  understand  some  of  these 
allusions.  Some  one  had  wounded  the  sensitive 
sick  man.  Who  that  one  was  I  do  not  know,  but  it 
is  evident  from  other  parts  of  his  journal  that  As- 
bury  was  not  able  to  separate  the  personal  from  the 
official,  and  counted  all  opposition  to  his  measures 
as  opposition  to  himself.  He  left  Baltimore  in  his 
sulky,  and  without  meeting  with  anything  of  special 
interest  he  reached  Philadelphia  and  presided  over 
his  Conferences  there  and  at  New  York,  and  visited 
New  England.  The  cities  gave  him  trouble;  they 
wished,  he  said,  to  have  the  connection  drafted,  and 
some  of  the  most  acceptable  preachers  detailed  to 
serve  them.  In  New  York  he  heard  of  his  father's 
death.  The  good  man  was  eighty-five  years  old; 
had  lived  well,  and  died  happy.  O'Kelly,  after  some 
years  of  persistent  agitation,  now  attacked  Asbury 
in  a  severe  pamphlet.  He  had,  Asbury  said,  taken 
the  butt  end  of  his  whip  to  him,  and  among  other 
charges  he  made  was  that  Asbury  wished  to  be 
called  a  bishop.  The  journal  says:  "James  O'Kelly 
hath  told  a  tale  of  me,  which  I  think  it  is  my  duty  to 
tell  better.     He  writes,  'Francis  ordered  the  preach- 


Francis  Asbvby,  181 

ers  to  entitle  him  bishop  in  directing  their  letters/ 
The  secret  truth  of  the  matter  was  this:  The  preach- 
ers having  had  great  difficulties  about  the  appella- 
tion of  Mr.  and  Rev!,  it  was  talked  over  in  the  yearly 
Conference,  for  then  we  had  no  General  Confer- 
ence established.  So  we  concluded  that  it  would  be 
by  far  the  best  to  give  each  man  his  official  title, 
as  deacon,  elder,  and  bishop.  To  this  the  majority 
agreed.  James  O'Kelly  giveth  all  the  good,  the  bad, 
and  middling  of  all  the  order  of  our  Church  to  me. 
What  can  be  the  cause  of  all  this  ill  treatment, 
which  I  receive  from  him?  Was  it  because  I  could 
not  settle  him  for  life  in  the  South  District  of  Vir- 
ginia? Is  this  his  gratitude?  He  was  in  this  dis- 
trict for  ten  years  as  presiding  elder,  and  there  was 
no  peace  with  James,  until  Dr.  Coke  took  the  matter 
out  of  my  hands.  After  we  had  agreed  to  hold  a 
General  Conference  to  settle  the  dispute,  and  be- 
hold when  the  General  Conference  by  a  majority 
went  against  him,  he  treated  the  General  Confer- 
ence with  as  much  contempt  almost  as  he  had  treat- 
ed me,  only  I  am  the  butt  of  all  his  spleen." 

He  made  quite  an  extensive  tour  through  New 
England.  He  received  small  hospitality,  and  says: 
"We  frequently  spend  a  dollar  a  day  to  feed  our- 
selves and  horses.  I  never  received  as  I  recollect, 
any  personal  beneficence,  no,  not  a  farthing,  in  New 
England,  and  perhaps  never  shall,  unless  I  shall  be 
totally  out  of  cash." 

He  now  went  to  New  Hampshire  and  Maine,  and 
attended  the  first  Conference  ever  held  in  Elaine. 
Despite  his  fatigue,  he  improved  in  health.  He  met 
the  New  England  Conference  at  Granville,  and  then 
returned  southward. 


182  Francis  As  bub  y. 

His  dear  old  friend,  John  Dickins,  who  passed 
safely  through  one  epidemic  of  yellow  fever  in  Phil- 
adelphia, had  fallen  a  victim  to  another.  "For  pi- 
ety, probity,  profitable  teaching,  holy  living,  Chris- 
tian education  of  his  children,  secret  closet  prayer,'* 
he  saj^s,  "I  doubt  whether  his  superior  is  to  be  found 
in  America." 

His  horse  was  worn  down,  but  his  friend  Philip 
Rogers,  converted  under  his  ministry  in  Baltimore 
twenty  years  before,  lent  him  another;  and  with 
Richard  Whatcoat  as  a  companion,  he  made  his  way 
by  his  usual  route  to  Rembert's  in  South  Carolina, 
where  he  spent  a  week;  and  after  calling  at  Robert 
Bowman's,  he  came  to  Charleston,  where  he  received 
a  cooling  letter  from  the  north. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

1799. 

Asbury  in  the  Last  Year  of  the  Century — Charleston — North 
Carohna — Advice  of  Physicians — Feebleness  of  Whatcoat — 
Jesse  Lee  and  Benjamin  Blanton  —  Henry  Parks  —  Tait's, 
Pope's,  and  Grant's  —  Extensive  Tour  Through  Georgia  — 
Charleston  Again. 

BLSHOP  ASBURY  remained  in  Charleston  a 
month,  and  then  returned  northward.  To  fol- 
low him  every  day  would  be  a  somewhat  wearisome 
task  to  the  general  reader,  but  there  is  an  interest 
attached  to  the  names  of  persons  and  places  along 
the  route  which  makes  the  otherwise  dull  journal 
interesting.  He  went  by  Ragin's  and  Hawkins's, 
in  South  Carolina,  into  Bladen,  in  North  Carolina, 
where  he  preached  at  Shallott  Church;  then  by  Town 
Creek,  where  his  dear  friends,  Stephen  Daniel  and 
his  good  wife,  used  to  entertain  him;  to  Nixon  and 
Stone  Bay, and  friend  Johnson's;  to  William  Bryan's 
and  Colonel  Bryan's;  to  Trenton,  then  to  New  Berne, 
and  then  twentj^-four  miles  to  Cox's,  on  Neuse  Riv- 
er. I  have  given  this  extract  from  his  journal  merely 
to  show  how  close  was  his  attention  to  little  thingr^, 
as  well  as  to  present  names  which  are  still  promi- 
nent in  Southern  Methodism.  The  people  among 
whom  he  found  his  chief  friends  in  South  Carolina 
and  North  Carolina  were  nearly  all  of  the  same 
class — plain,  independent,  well-to-do  farmers,  with 
a  few  slaves,  and  a  sufficient  quantity  of  arable  land 
on  which  to  make  a  good  living.     They  knew  little 

(183) 


184:  Francis  As  bury. 

of  luxury,  but  lived  in  comfort.  They  were  inde- 
pendent yeomanry,  who  were  generally  of  English 
descent,  and  most  of  whom  had  made  what  they  had 
by  hard  toil.  A  few  of  the  wealthy  were  Metho- 
dists, but  the  most  of  them  had  little  use  for  Meth- 
odism, and  Methodism  less  use  for  them  and  their 
ways.  There  was,  however,  a  boundless  hosi)ital- 
ity,  and  from  Charleston  to  Baltimore  he  had  free 
entertainment. 

He  x>resided  over  the  Conference  in  Baltimore,  and 
then  went  to  the  eastern  shore,  going  down  to  the 
lowest  county  in  Maryland,  and  then  through  Del- 
aware northward.  He  called  a  consultation  of  phy- 
sicians in  Delaware,  and  they  advised  that  he  should 
discontinue  preaching  entirely, because  they  feared  a 
consumption  or  dropsy  in  the  chest.  He,  however, 
pressed  on  through  Philadelphia  into  eastern  New 
York,  and  then  back  down  the  Hudson,  stoi)ping 
at  Kinderhook,  Ehinebeck,  Albany,  and  Coeyman's 
landing,  through  rain  and  damp  into  Nev/  Jei'sey, 
and  then  through  southern  Pennsylvania  into  Mary 
land.  He  came  through  Loudoun,  Berkley,  Fred- 
erick, Shenandoah,  Culpepper,  Madison,  Orange, 
Louisa,  and  Hanover,  and  thence  to  Eichmond.  He 
says:  "I  need  much  faith  and  good  water."  He 
found  a  pleasant  retreat  at  John  Ellis's,  within  two 
miles  of  Richmond,  and  would  have  preaclied  in  the 
walls  of  the  new  house  at  Richmond,  but  the  heavy 
rain  prevented. 

He  put  a  blister  on  his  breast,  and  went  on  his  w^aj 
through  Chesterfield,  Powhatan,  Cumberland,  and 
Buckingham,  into  Prince  Edward.  The  weather  was 
hot,  the  blister  was  running,  he  had  no  rest  night  or 
day — no  wonder  he  savs,  "I  would  not  live  alwavs.'^ 


Francis  As  bury.  185 

ruor,  aged  What  coat  was  willi  him.  lie  had  a 
sore  ou  his  leg,  and  Asburj  a  sore  breast  iuside  aud 
out.  John  Hjjencer,  however,  gave  them  a  good  home, 
and  he  rested  two  days;  then  he  rode  into  Halifax 
countj',  and  had  a  large  congregation  on  the  Ban- 
ister, and  thence  into  Pittsylvania,  and  into  North 
Carolina.  He  was  now  in  Eockingham  county,  and 
through  Rockingham,  Stokes,  aud  Guilford,  sick  and 
tired,  he  came  into  Rowan,  and  thence  through  Ire- 
dell, Wilkes,  and  Lincoln  into  York  county,  South 
Carolina.  Benjamin  Blanton  met  him  there.  His 
famous  horse  w^as  dead  of  the  staggers,  and  in  four 
years  the  hard-working  young  elder  had  received 
two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars. 

Bishop  Asbury  preached  at  Golden  Grove,  on  the 
Saluda,  w^here  the  land  was  rich,  and  at  Cox's  meet- 
inghouse, w^here  there  was  the  best  society  in  South 
Carolina,  and  went  thence  into  Pendleton,  "w^here 
Mr.  James  Nash  and  his  family,  though  not  in  so- 
ciety, were  our  kindest  friends." 

He  crossed  the  Savannah  River  at  Cherokee  ford, 
and  came  safe  to  William  Tait's,  in  Elbert  county, 
Georgia.  He  w^as  attended  by  Jesse  Lee,  who  was 
with  him  in  all  this  journey,  and  by  Benjamin 
Blanton.  He  rode  in  a  covered  gig,  w  hich  was  called 
"The  Felicity,"  and  kept  dry,  wiiile  Blanton  and  Lee 
took  the  rain.  There  w^as  now  at  the  forks,  near  Pe- 
tersburg, a  chapel,  built  by  William  Talt,  who  had 
moved  from  Cokesbury,  in  Maryland,  and  w^ho  w^as 
the  father  of  eJudge  Tait;  and  here  he  was  made  ex- 
ceedingly comfortable  for  a  little  time,  and  then,  on 
a  raw^  day,  rodo  tw^enty  miles,  w^here  he  preached  in 
a  cold  meetinghouse  to  a  w\arm-hearted  people,  and 
where  his  friend  Ralph  Banks  entertained  him,  and 


186  Francis  As  bury, 

liis  wile,  the  liearly  young  inotber  of  thirteen  chil- 
dren, gave  him  a  Virginia  welcome.  Ralph  Banks 
was  one  of  the  leading  men  of  that  country,  and  As- 
bury  often  afterw^ards  found  lodging  at  his  home. 
Henry  Parks,  the  father  of  William  J.  Parks,  fa- 
mous in  Georgia,  had  been  converted  and  built  his 
cabin  chapel  in  the  woods  of  Franklin,  and  Asbury 
found  it.  He  w^as  now  in  a  new  country,  just  be- 
ing settled  by  a  body  of  sturdy  immigrants  from 
North  Carolina  and  Virginia.  The  preachers  came 
to  Charles  Wakefield's,  in  the  new  county  of  Ogle- 
thorpe, W'hen  poor  Blanton  broke  dow n  and  went  to 
bed  with  a  high  fever,  and  Asbury  sent  the  hearty, 
happj^,  healthy  Lee  on  to  the  head  w^aters  of  the 
Oconee,  while  he  staged  behind  to  nurse  his  sick 
companion,  whom  he  housed  in  his  carriage,  and 
rode  Blanton's  stiff-jointed  horse,  that  he  would  only 
ride,  he  said,  "to  save  souls  or  the  health  of  a  broth- 
er." He  went  now  to  the  hospitable  home  of  Bur- 
rell  Pope.  These  Popes,  Henry  and  Burrell,  had 
come  from  Virginia,  and  had  a  meetinghouse,  iu 
w^hich  the  congregation,  the  journal  says,  "seemed 
more  wealthy  than  religious." 

He  went  on  his  tour,  stoj^ping  at  the  widow  Stew- 
art's, and  reaching  the  village  of  Greensboro,  then 
quite  a  sprightly  county  town.  Then  to  Burke's  and 
to  John  Crutchfield's,  and  to  Mark's  meetinghouse, 
in  the  forks  of  Broad  River,  and  to  Hope  Hull's  and 
David  Meriw^ether's,  and  to  his  old  friend  Thomas 
Grant's.  They  now  turned  their  faces  eastw^ard,  and 
passed  the  wagons  laden  with  rum:  and  stopping  at 
Thomas  Haynes's  and  James  Allen's,  they  rode  once 
more  into  Augusta.  The  little  city  had  much  im- 
proved in  every  respect  but  religion.     There  was  as 


Francis  As  bury.  187 

yet  no  orgauized  religious  body  iu  it,  tliougli  there 
was  sometimes  preaching.  He  heard  a  sermon  in 
the  morning  and  preached  one  in  the  afternoon,  and 
over  wretched  roads  he  traveled  on  till  he  reached 
Charleston. 

The  itinerary  I  have  given  will  perhaps  only  in- 
terest those  who  will  take  the  map  and  mark  the 
course  he  and  his  companion  took.  Journeys  such 
as  this  will  never  be  made  again,  and  if  made  now 
would  be  vain  labor.  But  Lee  and  Asbury  planted 
seed  as  they  went  along  w^hich  is  ripening  yet. 

The  Conference  was  soon  held.  There  was  really 
but  little  to  do.  The  recital  of  religious  experiences, 
the  careful  examination  of  character,  the  preaching, 
then  the  appointments,  and  all  was  over.  There 
were  now  twenty-three  members  present  in  the  Con- 
ference, whose  w^ork  extended  into  three  states, 
where,  on  his  first  visit,  Lee  and  Willis  and  himself 
had  begun  the  work  only  fifteen  years  before. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

1800. 

Beginning  of  the  New  Century — ^Asbury  Rests  a  Month — Wash- 
ington's Death  —  Nicholas  Snethen — General  Conference — 
Great  Revival  —  Whatcoat's  Election  as  Bishop  —  Journey 
North  v/ard. 

AFTEI^  a  year  of  immense  labor,  during  which 
he  had  traveled  incessantly,  Asbury  now  de- 
cided to  rest  for  a  month  in  the  balmy  air  of  Charles- 
ton. The  South  Carolina  Conference  convened  on 
the  first  of  January.  The  work  was  all  hard  and 
there  was  little  choice  in  appointments,  and  so  they 
were  easily  made.  In  no  Conference  was  Asbury's 
administration  recognized  as  wise  to  a  greater  de- 
gree than  here.  Jesse  Lee  was  with  him,  to  relieve 
him  of  much  of  the  fatigue  of  preaching  and  of 
presiding,  and  in  three  days  the  Conference  session 
closed. 

While  the  Conference  was  in  session  the  tidings 
came  that  Washington  was  dead.  Asbury  had  met 
him  twice.  In  company  with  Dr.  Coke,  he  called  on 
him  once  at  Mount  Vernon  to  get  his  signature  to  a 
petition  to  the  Virginia  legislature  for  the  abolition 
of  slavery,  and  dined  with  him;  and  a  second  time, 
in  New  York,  after  he  w^as  elected  to  the  presidency, 
Coke  and  Asbury  called  to  present  him  the  address 
of  the  Conference.  Other  than  this  he  had  no  com- 
munication with  him,  but  he  had  for  him  the  higli- 
est  admiration.  He  calls  him  "the  intrepid  chief, 
the  disinterested  friend,  the  temporal  savior  of  his 
(188) 


Francis  Asbvry,  189 

country,  the  matchless  man."  He  paid  a  tribute  to 
him  in  his  Sunday  sermon. 

Asbury  now  decided  to  take  a  little  needed  rest, 
and  Jesse  Lee,  who  was  strong  and  active,  though 
he  weighed  two  hundred  and  fifty  pounds,  took  John 
Garvin  with  him  and  rode  to  St.  Mary  on  Asbury's 
old  gray.  St.  Mary  was  then  the  remotest  English 
settlement  in  the  United  States.  The  weather  was 
exceedingly  severe,  snow  falling  to  the  depth  of  eight- 
een inches  in  South  Carolina.  Nicholas  Snethen, 
a  gifted  young  Jerseyman,  was  with  Asbury,  and 
during  the  snowy  weather  read  to  the  bishop  from 
the  sermons  of  Saurin.  Asbury  was  not  at  all  well, 
but  kept  up  with  his  correspondence,  preached  oc- 
casionally, visited  the  Orphan  House,  v/hich  was 
then  superior  to  any  institution  in  America,  and  on 
Jesse  Lee's  return,  after  a  rest  of  six  weeks,  he  left 
Charleston.  The  roads  were  bad,  the  weather  cold, 
and  it  was  a  week  before  he  reached  Rembert's,  and 
went  thence  into  North  Carolina.  Appointments 
had  been  sent  ahead,  and  there  was  preaching  every 
day.  The  journey  was  through  the  central  part  of 
North  Carolina,  and  the  travelers  came  by  the  rough 
'roads  to  the  university,  to  Raleigh,  and  through  the 
upper  counties  into  Virginia. 

A  friend  asked  him  for  the  loan  of  fifty  pounds. 
"He  might  as  well  have  asked,"  he  said,  "for  Peru. 
I  showed  him  all  the  money  I  had  in  the  world — 
twelve  dollars  —  and  gave  him  five."  It  was  the 
same  oft-told  story  of  Virginia  travel:  wretched 
roads,  bad  weather,  but  hospitable  homes  and  com- 
fortable lodgings.  He  presided  at  the  Virginia  Con- 
ference, which  met  at  Norfolk  and  remained  in  ses- 


190  Francis  As  bury. 

sion  three  days;  he  then  pressed  on  toward  Balti- 
more, where  the  General  Conference  was  to  meet. 
There  was  now  quite  a  company  of  preachers,  for 
Lemuel  Andrews  and  William  McKendree,  as  well 
as  Snethen  and  Lee,  were  with  him. 

They  made  their  way  to  Baltimore.  There  the 
fourth  General  Conference  of  the  Methodists  opened 
its  work  on  the  6th  of  May,  and  continued  in  ses- 
sion tw^o  weeks.  Dr.  Coke  was  there  and  presided. 
Asbur}^  had  fully  made  up  his  mind  to  resign  his  of- 
fice as  bishop,  and  so  expressed  himself  to  his  breth 
ren,  but  they  insisted  so  earnestly  on  his  remaining 
a  bishop  that  he  consented  to  do  so.  It  was  evident 
that  the  American  preachers  did  not  wish  to  have  Dr. 
Coke  in  Asbury's  place,  or  even  as  his  associate,  and 
yet  it  w^as  as  evident  that  some  one  must  be  chosen 
for  the  place.  Perhaps  before  the  Conference  met 
there  had  been  little  question  as  to  who  that  associ- 
ate should  be,  and  that  one  was  Jesse  Lee.  For  two 
years  he  had  been  in  training  for  this  office,  for 
which  he  had  every  qualification.  He  no  doubt  ex- 
pected it,  and  Asbury  was  perhaps  as  confident  as 
his  traveling  companion  that  he  would  be  chosen; 
but  the  vote  was  cast,  and  there  was  a  tie  between 
Whatcoat  and  Lee.  Another  vote  came  later,  and 
by  a  majority  of  four  votes  the  feeble  and  aged 
Whatcoat,  whom  the  Conference  had  refused  to  re- 
ceive as  bishop  by  Mr.  Wesley's  appointment,  was 
elected.  Mr.  Asbury  was  What  coat's  bosom  friend, 
lie  believed,  and  truly,  that  there  was  no  better 
man.  He  did  not,  it  may  be^  do  anything  to  elect 
him,  or  to  defeat  the  strong  and  somewhat  angular 
Lee,  but  he  was  neutral,     A  word  from  him  would 


Fbancis  As  duet,  191 

probably  have  secured  the  result  which  Lee's  friends 
expected.  I  think  it  unquestionable  that  Lee  and 
his  friends  were  seriously  hurt  with  him,  and  while 
Bishop  Asbury  disclaimed  saying  anything  to  Lee's 
disparagement,  Lee's  defeat  was  largely  attributed 
to  his  indifference.  If  he  made  a  mistake,  as  many 
think  he  did,  he  suffered  severely  for  it.  Whatcoat 
was  a  good  man,  the  country  had  in  it  no  better;  but 
save  that  he  was  a  good  man,  and  a  good  preacher, 
he  seems  to  have  had  no  other  qualification  for  the 
episcopacy.  He  was  sixty-four  years  old,  in  feeble 
health,  and  a  man  of  such  quiet,  mystical  spirit  that 
he  was  utterly  unsuited  to  taking  the  important  com- 
mand now  devolving  on  him;  and  instead  of  reliev- 
ing Asbury,  he  burdened  him.  The  Conference  did 
little  more  than  make  this  election.  It  decided, 
however,  that  hereafter  the  preachers  might  have 
eighty  dollars  instead  of  sixty-four,  and  need  not  ac- 
count for  all  their  presents. 

Asbury  visited  his  old  friend  Rogers,  at  Green- 
wood, and  then  went  to  Gough's,  and  with  Whatcoat 
began  his  northward  journey. 

The  General  Conference  which  had  just  adjourned 
was  perhaps  the  most  remarkable  for  the  religious 
effect  on  the  community  of  any  which  ever  assem- 
bled in  America.  In  Old  Town — Baltimore — a  great 
revival  began,  which  continued  during  the  entire 
session,  and  over  one  hundred  professed  conversion 
during  the  sitting  of  the  Conference.  This  was  the 
beginning  in  the  east  of  that  w^onderful  revival  ep- 
och which  continued  for  nearly  ten  years,  and  which 
swept  over  the  whole  country.  The  revival  fire  was 
'burning  in  Delaware,  whither  the  two  bishops  went 


192  Francis  Asbury, 

to  Conference;  and  at  Dover  the  love  feast  began 
at  eiglit  and  continued  until  four,  and  some  people 
never  left  the  house  till  midnight.  At  Duck  Creek, 
a  little  country  hamlet,  where  the  preachers  of  the 
Philadelphia  Confe-rence  assembled,  a  revival  began, 
and  over  a  hundred  were  converted.  Asbury  and  his 
companion,  however,  hastened  on  to  Wilmington, 
and  then  on  to  Chester,  where  the  good  Mary  Withey 
still  lived;  and  happily  raised  above  her  doubts,  and 
rejoicing  in  God,  she  gladly  received  them,  as  she 
had  the  Lord's  prophets  for  twenty-eight  or  twenty- 
nine  years.  Asbury  was  gladdened  by  the  news 
which  reached  him  from  all  sections.  There  were 
great  revivals  everywhere.  He  thought  our  Pente- 
cost had  come.  In  Edisto  (South  Carolina),  Guilford 
(North  Carolina),  Franklin,  Amelia,  Gloucester  (Vir- 
ginia), Baltimore,  Cecil  (Maryland),  Dover,  Duck 
Creek,  and  Milford  (Delaware),  the  work  was  glori- 
ous; and  to  add  to  his  joy,  to  the  astonishment  of  his 
friends  as  well  as  his  own,  his  health  was  restored. 
In  New  York  City,  where  the  next  Conference  was 
held,  there  was  a  gracious  revival.  One  evening  the 
services  continued  till  after  midnight,  and  twenty 
souls  found  the  Lord.  He  made  his  annual  visit  to 
the  Sherwood  farm,  and  found  that  his  dear  old 
nurse,  Betsy  Sherwood,  was  gone  to  glory.  He  made 
his  usual  tour  through  New  England.  It  is  very  ev- 
ident that  the  land  of  the  Puritans  was  not  to  his 
taste,  but  there  were  many  things  among  the  people 
he  thought  very  praiseworthy.  The  roads  were  built 
for  ages,  and  the  simplicity  and  frugality  of  the  New 
England  matron  were  admirable.  "She,  as  a  moth- 
er, mistress,  maid,  or  wife,  is  a  worthy  woman.    Here' 


Francis  As  bury,  193 

are  no  noisy  negroes  running  and  laughing.  If  you 
wish  breakfast  at  six  or  seven,  there  is  no  setting  the 
table  an  hour  before  the  breakfast  can  be  produced.-' 
He  made  his  way  to  the  place  of  Conference  session 
in  Massachusetts  and  congratulated  himself  that 
after  riding  thirteen  hundred  miles  he  had  finished 
the  six  Conferences  in  seven  months.  He  did  not 
relish  the  compulsory  church  tax,  and  when  he  rode 
through  Weston  and  saw  the  grand  steeple  and 
porches,  and  even  the  stalls  for  the  horses,  he  says: 
"It  is  well  if  they  do  not  make  the  Methodists  pay  to 
support  their  pomp.     Oh,  religion  in  New  England!" 

The  tour  was  a  long  one,  leading  the  two  bishops 
through  New  England  during  the  hot  days  of  the 
summer.  Poor  Whatcoat  found  it  hard  work  to 
keep  up  with  his  senior  colleague,  and  came  so  near 
fainting  that  Asbury  had  to  give  up  his  carriage  to 
him.  He  now  returned  through  Connecticut,  and 
joined  Garrettson.  The  saintly  lady  of  Livingston 
Manor,  who  had  been  the  first  to  invite  the  Meth- 
odist preachers  to  Rhinebeck  and  receive  them  into 
her  home,  was  dead.  She  gave  her  daughter,  Cath- 
erine, to  a  Methodist  preacher,  but  never  herself  left 
the  Reformed  Church,  in  which  she  had  been  con- 
verted. The  two  bishops  returned  to  New  York 
City,  and,  preaching  on  the  way,  went  through  New 
Jersey  into  Pennsylvania,  and  reached  Baltimore 
again  by  the  first  of  September.  On  every  breez(? 
Asbury  heard  news  of  victory,  and  he  shouts,  '^Glo- 
ry! glory!  glory !^^  Perhaps  six  hundred  souls  had 
been  converted  in  Maryland  alone  since  the  General 
Conference, 

After  traveling  tlirough  Maryland  he  came  into 
13 


194  Francis  Asbury, 

Loudoun,  Virginia,  and  here  mentions  for  the  first 
time  his  visit  to  the  widow  Roszel.  She  was  the 
saintly  mother  of  that  great  man  Stephen  George 
Roszel,  who  in  obedience  to  his  mandate  began  to 
travel  a  circuit.  He  came  to  Rectortown,  and  the 
hospitable  gentry  did  the  best  thing  for  the  two 
bishops  they  knew.  They  gave  them  a  barbecue,  or, 
as  Asbury  calls  it,  a  green-corn  feast,  with  a  roasted 
animal,  cooked  and  eaten  out  of  doors  under  a  booth. 
The  next  barbecue  he  came  to  was  not  intended  for 
the  bishops,  since  there  was  a  horse  race  attached 
to  it.  His  journey  was  through  the  midst  of  Virgin- 
ia, and  he  mentions  a  visit  to  Lynchburg,  then  a 
sprightly  young  town  on  the  James,  where  he 
preached  in  a  town  hall.  Through  the  hills  they 
rode  to  Liberty,  now  Bedford  City,  where  he  found 
the  people  so  anxious  to  see  a  live  bishop  that  they 
gathered  around  his  carriage  as  if  he  had  a  cake-and- 
cider  cart.  He  preached  in  the  courthouse,  and  went 
to  brother  Paterson's  and  to  BlackwelFs. 

He  then  climbed  the  mountains  of  Botetourt  and 
went  to  Fincastle.  He  was  on  his  way  to  the  Hol- 
ston  country,  and  rode  to  Christians,  now  Christians- 
burg,  and  down  the  line  of  the  present  Norfolk  and 
Western  railway  through  Wytheville,  Abingdon,  and 
what  is  now  Bristol,  and  rested  at  his  old  friend  Van 
Pelt's  in  East  Tennessee.  Here  he  left  his  tired 
horse  and,  with  another  furnished  by  his  host,  began 
his  journey  to  Kentucky.  It  had  been  several  years 
since  he  had  made  a  visitation  to  this  then  remote 
section.  McKendree  was  now  with  the  bishops,  and 
together  they  crossed  the  mountains,  and  riding  one 
hundred  and  forty  miles,  they  reached  the  new  school 


Francis  As  bury.  195 

projected  by  Francis  Pojthress  and  known  as  Bethel. 
Asburj  was  mucli  dejected  at  the  prospect.  Here  in 
an  obscure  place,  surrounded  by  the  Kentucky  Riv- 
er in  part,  was  a  large,  expensive  building,  only  part- 
ly finished.  The  lowest  sum  w^hich  could  keep  the 
school  designed  at  w^ork  w^ould  be  £300,  without 
which  it  w  ould  be  useless,  and  there  was  in  sight  nei- 
ther funds  nor  principal  nor  pupils.  Poythress  had 
worn  himself  out,  and  was  to  be  relieved.  The  w^ork 
in  Kentucky  had  grown  much  in  interest,  and  de- 
manded a  careful  supervision.  Settlers  by  thou- 
sands had  poured  into  the  new  state,  and  while  there 
were  not  many  Methodists  among  them,  so  few  that 
in  traveling  two  or  three  hundred  miles  he  had  only 
been  entertained  in  six  homes,  yet  there  was  an  im- 
perative call  to  provide  for  the  surging  immigration. 
After  a  few  days  at  Betbel,  the  bishops  and  their 
companion,  McKendree,  struck  out  through  the  new- 
ly-opened country  for  the  settlements  on  the  banks 
of  the  Cumberland.  They  made  their  way  through 
the  prairies,  then  knovvn  as  the  barrens,  and  soaked 
by  rain  and  exhausted  by  fatigue  they  at  last  reached 
Nashville,  the  new  town  on  the  Cumberland  River. 
The  pioneers  had  been  here  before  them,  and  a  new 
church  W'as  projected.  It  was  to  be  of  stone;  it 
would  hold  when  completed  a  thousand  people;  it 
w^as  as  yet  neither  floored,  ceiled,  nor  glazed.  He 
now  came  in  contact  with  the  celebrated  coalition 
between  Presbyterians  and  Methodists,  w^hich  cre- 
ated such  a  sensation  and  brought  about  such  re- 
sults, in  which  the  McGees,  Craig,  Hodge,  Rankin, 
and  Adair  took  part  with  the  Methodist  McGee  and 
others  of  the  early  Methodist  preachers.     The  camp 


196  Francis  Asbury, 

meeting  was  now  begun  by  these  people,  and  Asbury, 
Whatcoat,  and  McKendree  were  at  the  close  of  one 
held  at  Drake's  meetinghouse.  There  were  a  thou- 
sand present  on  the  w^eek-day  and  two  thousand  on 
Sunday.  The  stand  was  in  the  open  air,  in  a  grove 
of  beech  trees.  At  night  fires  were  blazing  here  and 
there,  and  the  religious  excitement  rose  high,  and 
the  services  were  protracted  into  the  midnight.  As- 
bury  was  delighted  that  God  was  visiting  the  sons  of 
the  Puritans,  who,  he  says  somewhat  complacently, 
were  candid  enough  to  acknowledge  their  obliga- 
tions to  the  Methodists.  The  travelers  were  now 
compelled  to  return  to  the  east,  going  by  a  route 
which  led  them  through  the  Indian  nation.  They 
entered  the  white  settlements,  and  finally  reached 
Knoxville.  As  yet  there  was  no  ^tethodist  church 
there,  and  Asbury  preached  to  about  seven  hundred 
persons  in  the  statehouse.  Two  days'  riding  on 
horseback  brought  him  to  Van  Pelt's,  where  he  had 
left  his  horse  and  chaise.  His  host,  who  had  come 
to  these  wilds  from  New  York,  kindly  took  care  of 
him  uotil  he  and  his  companions  had  recruited,  and 
then  they  made  their  way  by  wiiat  is  now  the  rail- 
way route  by  Paint  Rock  and  Asheville  toward  the 
east.  He  was  walking  over  the  mountain  at  Paint 
Rock,  and  his  horse,  which  was  led  by  another,  reeled 
and  fell  over,  taking  the  chaise  with  him.  The  horse 
turned  a  complete  somersault,  and  the  carriage  was 
as  completely  turned  over,  but  by  a  heavy  lift  they 
were  both  righted,  and,  strange  to  say,  neither  horse 
nor  carriage  had  received  any  serious  damage. 
Without  further  accident  they  reached  x^sheville. 
He  had  now  pretty  well  made  the  entire  circuit,  and 


Francis  As  bury,  197 

found  himself  in  November  near  the  same  point  he 
had  passed  in  January. 

He  had  wonderfully  recovered  his  strength,  and 
his  religious  life  had  a  sereneness  which  was  not 
usual  to  him,  but  he  was  not  as  strong  as  he  thought 
he  was,  and  these  labors  told  upon  him.  The  jour- 
ney through  the  mountains,  however,  was  not  yet 
over,  and  the  traA^elers  pressed  on  into  what  is  now 
Pickens,  South  Carolina;  then  into  Georgia,  where 
they  made  a  circuit  of  almost  half  the  then  settled 
part  of  the  state;  and  then  into  South  Carolina  again, 
bringing  up  at  Camden,  where  the  South  Carolina 
Conference  was  to  hold  its  session. 


CHAPTER  XXYIII. 

1801. 

Troubles  About  Slavery — Death  of  Jarratt — Northern  Tour — 
Bevival  Days — Southern  Tour — Charleston  Again. 

THE  bishop  had  made  the  entire  circuit  of  the 
Conferences  without  any  failure  to  meet  each 
on  time,  and  the  new  year  of  1801  found  him  at  Cam- 
den. Isaac  Smith,  his  old  friend  at  whose  home  he 
made  an  annual  halt,  had  settled  in  this  little  village, 
and  had  established  a  Methodist  society  and  built  a 
church,  and  now  with  two  others  he  proposed  to  en- 
tertain the  South  Carolina  Conference.  The  Con- 
ference remained  in  session  for  five  days  and  then 
adjourned.  The  bishops  decided  to  rest  a  few  days, 
but  on  January  9th  started  on  their  northward  jour- 
ney. They  entered  into  North  Carolina,  and  then  re- 
turned into  South  Carolina  and  made  quite  a  tour 
through  that  state.  The  General  Conference  had 
made  a  very  decided  utterance  on  the  question  of 
negro  slavery,  and  it  had  aroused  great  hostilit}^  to 
the  Methodists  in  South  Carolina.  Asbury  indorsed 
the  utterance  fully, but  felt  the  embarrassment  under 
which  it  placed  him  and  his  brethren.  He  advised 
that  by  increasing  effort  and  faithful  preaching  they 
should  live  down  the  prejudice  against  them.  He 
said  nothing  could  so  effectually  alarm  some  of  the 
citizens  of  South  Carolina  against  the  Methodists  as 
the  address  of  the  General  Conference.  "The  rich 
among  the  people  never  thought  us  worthy  to  preach 
(198) 


Francis  As  bury,  199 

to  them ;  they  did  indeed  give  their  slaves  liberty  to 
hear,  and  join  our  Church,  and  now  it  appears  that 
the  poor  African  will  no  longer  have  this  privilege." 
No  wonder  that  Asbur^^  afterwards  doubted  the  wis- 
dom of  a  course  which  had  produced  such  a  result. 
Bishop  Whatcoat  had  been  with  him  since  his  elec- 
tion in  May;  indeed,  it  is  evident  that  Asbury  was 
not  willing  to  give  into  any  other  hands  the  work  or 
any  part  of  it  which  he  had  so  long  directed.  He 
was  willing  enough  to  have  Whatcoat  with  him  to 
relieve  him  of  the  labor  of  preaching,  but  he  had  lit- 
tle confidence  in  his  ability  to  plan  and  arrange  the 
work.  Generally  there  were  tw^o  sermons  a  day. 
Whatcoat  followed  Asbury,  or  Asbury  followed 
Whatcoat,  and  three  hours  were  often  taken  up  by 
the  service.  They  made  their  way  through  lov/er 
North  Carolina,  and  at  Wilmington  Asbury  w^as  in- 
vited to  preach  in  the  St.  James  Episcopal  Church, 
which  he  did  to  a  large  congregation.  The  route 
I^ursued  by  the  bishops  was  the  one  so  often  taken 
by  Asbury  in  going  to  and  from  Charleston,  and  the 
journey  was  void  of  any  special  interest.  The  Vir- 
ginia Conference  was  to  meet  at  Dromgoole's  April  1, 
and  the  two  bishops  w^ere  engaged  in  preaching  in 
eastern  North  Carolina  and  eastern  Virginia  until  the 
session  commenced.  The  congregations  at  the  Con- 
ference were  very  large.  While  the  preachers  were 
holding  their  indoor  session  the  people  were  being 
preached  to  out  of  doors;  and  on  Sunday,  while  As- 
^bury  was  preaching  in  the  house,  William  Ormond 
was  preaching  outside. 

His  old  friend  Devereaux  Jarratt  was  dead.    This 
Episcopal  minister  was  the  first  man  to  preach  the 


200  Francis  As  bury, 

doctrines  of  Methodism  in  Virginia.  He  had  been 
alienated  from  the  Methodists  in  latter  years,  but 
was  never  in  good  accord  with  his  own  Episcopal 
brethren.  He  loved  Asburj^  and  between  them 
there  was  never  any  discord  or  even  coolness.  The 
good  old  clergyman  had  been  cruelly  wounded  by 
Dr.  Coke,  and  especially  by  some  things  in  Coke's 
journal;  but  as  the  time  came  for  him  to  go  to  the 
world  beyond,  his  affection  for  Asbury  grew  strong- 
er, and  when  he  died  his  wife  requested  Asbury  to 
preach  his  funeral  sernif)n,  which  he  did.  He  hur- 
ried northward  to  the  Conference  in  Maryland,wliich 
met  at  Pipe  Creek.  Here,  Asbury  says,  Mr.  Straw- 
bridge  formed  the  first  society  in  Marjdand  and  in 
America.  The  effort  to  give  any  other  meaning  to 
this  expression  than  it  bears  has  not  been  successful ; 
and  while  the  argument  in  favor  of  the  first  society 
in  America  having  been  formed  in  New  York  is  not  to 
be  despised,  it  cannot  \evj  well  stand  against  this 
positive  statement  of  Asbury's,  made  after  that  in 
the  Discipline  by  himself,  and  Dr.  Coke,  in  which  he 
gave  to  the  New  York  society  the  priority. 

The  Baltimore  Conference  remained  in  session 
four  days,  and  the  bishops  spent  the  interval  be- 
tween the  adjournment  and  the  beginning  of  the 
Philadelphia  Conference  in  visiting  the  churches  on 
the  eastern  shore.  One  day  Asbury  preached  and 
Whatcoat  exhorted,  and  the  next  day  Whatcoat 
preached  and  Asbury  exhorted ;  and  thus  they  went 
on  toward  Philadelphia.  He  mentions  a  little  inci- 
dent, illustrating  the  character  of  those  primitive 
days,  that  is  worth  reciting.  A  Mr.  Hughes,  an  Irish 
Methodist,  had  conducted  a  school,  and  the  bishop 


Feancis  Asbury.  201 

was  urged  to  go  to  the  examination.  He  went,  and 
was  greatly  pleased  at  the  pedagogue's  success.  The 
master  had  provided  a  medal,  but  the  committee 
thought  it  proper  to  keep  it  for  a  future  examina- 
tion, and  a  subscription  in  money  was  taken  to  fur- 
nish the  children  each  with  a  small  silver  piece,  and 
so  make  them  equal  in  a  "free  country."  The  bisJi- 
op's  foot  was  seriously  inflamed,  but  Dr.  Physick 
applied  caustic;  and  while  he  was  cripjjled  for  two 
months,  the  treatment  was  effective  for  his  final  cure. 

The  Philadelphia  society  was  sadly  divided.  As- 
bury had  been  harassed  by  the  condition  of  things 
there  even  while  in  South  Carolina;  but  here,  con- 
fined to  his  room  and  forced  to  contend  with  the  sous 
of  Belial  who  had  so  wretchedly  divided  the  Church, 
it  was  specially  trying.  After  two  months'  stay  in 
Sodom,  as  he  calls  Philadelphia,  he  began  his  tour 
among  the  churches,  and  went  direct  to  Baltimore. 
Here  he  found  things  in  a  very  cheering  condition, 
for  at  Perry  Hall,  where  Mr.  Gough  had  a  chapel,  he 
found  a  revival  going  on. 

He  was  to  join  Bishop  Whatcoat  in  Frederick. 
He  made  his  journey  among  his  old  friends  and  met 
Whatcoat  at  Fredericktown,  and  they  mapped  out 
the  work.  Bishop  Whatcoat  was  to  go  eastward 
and  Asbury,  with  Nicholas  Snethen,  was  to  go  west- 
ward. He  ¥/ent  up  the  valley,  preaching  at  Win- 
chester, Woodstock,  Harrisburg,  Staunton,  Fairfield, 
and  Lexington.  This  beautiful  section  was  popu- 
lated largely  by  Presbyterians,  but  the  Methodists 
had  established  themselves  all  through  the  country, 
even  then.  The  travelers  came  again  to  Madam  Kus- 
sell's.      Snethen,  his  young  comx^anion,  who  after- 


202  F BANC  IS  As  BURY. 

wards  was  one  of  the  great  men  of  the  Methodist 
Protestant  Church,  was  a  preacher  of  great  power, 
and  as  he  was  a  vigorous  man,  he  relieved  the  feeble 
bishop  of  much  labor.  While  Asbury  hoped  the  year 
before  that  he  had  fully  recovered,  he  was  painfully 
reminded  of  his  weakness  by  a  return  of  the  same 
trouble;  but  his  will  kept  him  in  motion,  and  in  spite 
of  mountains  and  execrable  roads  he  made  his  way 
to  Ebenezer  in  the  Holston  country,  where  the  Con- 
ference met.  In  reaching  this  place  he  passed 
through  the  beautiful  Elk  Garden,  and  Snethen 
preached  in  the  church.  Here,  in  this  remote  part 
of  southern  Virginia,  shut  in  by  the  mountains,  there 
were  valleys  of  matchless  fertility,  and  hills  clad  in 
richest  robes  of  native  blue  grass.  A  class  of  ex- 
cellent people  had  settled  here  and  built  a  church. 
Asbury  sought  them  out.  The  route  to  East  Tennes- 
see was  through  the  rugged  Alleghanies,  and  it  was 
only  after  a  week  of  hard  riding  that  they  reached 
the  seat  of  the  Conference.  At  that  time  the  Ken- 
tucky country  and  the  Holston  were  in  the  same 
Conference,  but  such  was  the  revival  in  Kentucky 
that  the  preachers  in  that  section  were  not  able  to 
leave  the  work.  McKendree  was  now  in  charge  of 
this  Kentucky  District,  as  it  is  written  in  the  min- 
utes, and  had  a  diocese  extending  from  the  banks  of 
the  Scioto  to  the  Holston  and  from  the  Alleghanies 
to  the  Mississippi.  Snethen  did  most  of  the  preach- 
ing, but  Asbury  was  able  to  fill  the  appointment  on 
Sunday,  when  there  was  much  praise  and  shouting. 
The  circuit  of  the  Conferences  was  now  over,  and, 
with  his  eloquent  young  brother,  Asbury  came  south- 
ward on  an  evangelistic  tour  through  the  connection. 


F BANC  IS  As  BURY,  203 

Asbury  was  in  his  own  view  a  Pauline  bishop,  and 
certainly  no  bishop  of  the  primitive  Church  was  ever 
more  abundant  in  labors.  Crossing  the  mountains 
of  Xorth  Carolina,  he  came  through  the  western 
counties  of  the  state  into  the  upper  part  of  South 
Carolina;  and  preaching  every  day,  they  made  their 
way  through  Greenville,  Laurens,  Spartanburg,  New- 
berry, and  Edgefield  to  Augusta,  Georgia.  After 
years  of  fruitful  and  fitful  work  on  the  part  of  oth- 
ers, Stith  Mead,  a  young  Virginian,  whose  family 
resided  in  Augusta,  had  by  his  earnest  ministry  or- 
ganized a  society  in  Augusta,  and  by  giving  five  hun- 
dred dollars  of  his  own  money  for  a  lot  he  had  suc- 
ceeded in  securing  a  subscription  sufficient  to  build 
in  the  city  what  Asbury  thought  a  very  large  and 
most  elegant  house.  It  was  a  plain,  barn-like  wood- 
en building  which  is  now  owned  by  the  negroes  of 
the  Springfield  Baptist  Church.  There  was  earnest 
preaching  by  Snethen,  who  excited  considerable  at- 
tention, but  there  were  no  conversions.  They  left 
the  city  and  went  on  through  Columbia  and  Wilkes 
counties.  Bishop  Whatcoat  had  joined  them,  and 
while  he  w^ent  on  to  the  southern  part  of  the  state, 
Asbury  and  Snethen  went  northward.  This  part  of 
Georgia  was  now  thickly  settled  with  excellent  peo- 
ple from  Virginia  and  Maryland,  and  churches  had 
been  built  all  over  the  country.  They  were  homely 
houses  of  logs,  almost  universally,  but  as  good  as 
the  residences  of  the  people.  Asbury  said:  "The 
people,  however,  are  extremely  kind.  I  have  ex- 
perienced great  sensible  enjoyment  of  God:  our  cab- 
ins are  courts  when  Jesus  is  there." 

The  two  bishops  now  agreed  to  divide  out  the  ter- 


204  Francis  Asbumy. 

ritorj,  one  going  east,  the  other  west,  and  Asbury 
struck  out  for  the  frontier,  the  more  westerly  coun- 
ties in  Georgia.  Stith  Mead  was  a  great  revivalisc, 
and  in  the  rural  districts  of  Georgia  religious  ex- 
citement ran  very  high.  At  Little  River  the  meeting 
held  for  eight  hours.  In  Warren  they  held  a  meet- 
ing from  nine  in  the  morning  till  three  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon.  These  new  central  counties  of  Georgia 
were  then  bordering  on  the  Indian  nation.  They 
were  A^ery  fertile,  and  many  settlers  from  Virginia 
and  Maryland  were  crowding  into  them.  Asbury 
went  to  the  very  border  of  the  Indian  country,  and 
then  turned  his  face  eastward  and  made  his  way  by 
the  oft-traveled  route  to  Charleston.  There  are  now 
(1896)  in  lower  South  Carolina  churches  still  stand- 
ing in  the  pine  forests  and  swamps  which  Asbury 
visited  on  this  journey. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

1802. 

Northward  Again — A  View  of  the  Virginia  Conference— Balti- 
more— His  Motlier's  Death — Meeting  with  O'Kelly — Over 
the  Alleghanies  —  Exposure  in  Tennessee  —  Sickness  —  Mc- 
Kendree — Reaches  Camden  and  Rembert's. 

THE  Conference  convened  at  Camden  again,  and 
when  it  adjourned,  with  Nicholas  Snethen  the 
good  bishop  turned  his  face  northward,  and  preach- 
ing as  they  went,  Snethen  and  himself  came  to  Sa- 
lem in  Brunswick  county,  Virginia,  where  ^'the  close 
Conference  was  held  for  four  days.  There  w^as  great 
strictness  observed  in  the  examination  of  the  preach- 
ers* characters.  Some  w^ere  reproved  before  the 
Conference  for  their  lightness  and  other  follies.'- 
This  extract  from  his  journal  gives  us  a  glimpse  into 
the  usages  of  those  times  which  have  long  since 
passed  away.  There  was  no  open  session.  There 
was  but  little  to  do  except  to  examine  character, 
and  it  was  done  with  rigid  strictness.  The  name  of 
the  preacher  was  called,  and  if  there  was  anything 
against  him  that  was  the  time  to  speak.  The  inci- 
dents related  by  the  old  preachers  show  how  strict 
they  were  in  their  examination  of  each  other.  C)ne 
young  man  was  complained  of  because  he  had  i)Ut 
on  a  girl's  bonnet,  and  asked  if  he  was  not  a  prett}' 
girl;  one  had  shaved  on  Sunday,  and  one  had  not 
shaved  off  all  his  beard;  one  wore  a  dress  coat;  one 
was  too  light  in  his  conversation,  and  one  was  too 
dressv  in  apparel  —  these  as  well  as  more  serious 

(205) 


206  Francis  As  bury, 

things  were  brought  out  in  these  secret  sessions; 
but  as  a  general  thing  there  was  commendation, 
rather  than  censure.  Philip  Bruce,  Jesse  Lee,  Jon- 
athan Jackson,  and  Nicholas  Snethen,  a  thundering 
legion,  were  preaching  from  the  jDulpit  to  the  great 
crowds  that  came  to  Conference  "while  this  secret 
session"  was  being  held,  and  there  was,  the  bishop 
said,  "a  great  shaking."  As  soon  as  this  Conference 
was  over  the  bishop  and  his  companions  were  ou 
their  way  to  the  next  Conference  which  met  in  Bal- 
timore. This  was  Asbury's  favorite  Conference,  the 
strongest  and  best  of  them  all.  All  the  quarterage 
this  year  was  paid,  three  thousand  souls  had  been 
added  to  the  society,  money  was  raised  to  buy  horses 
for  poor  preachers,  and  donations  made  to  those  w^ho 
had  long  distances  to  go. 

It  T\^s  while  he  w^as  in  Baltimore  that  he  received 
the  account  of  his  dear  mother's  death.  He  had  left 
her  thirty-one  years  before,  and  he  had  never  gone 
back  to  see  her  again.  She  had  fully  surrendered 
him  to  his  work,  nor  asked  him  to  leave  it.  He  had 
not  neglected  his  old  parents,  but  had  ministered  to 
them.  His  letters  had  been  regular  and  his  remit- 
tances as  generous  as  he  had  been  able  to  make 
them.  She  died  January  8,  1802,  aged  eighty-seven 
or  eighty-eight  j^ears. 

The  Philadelphia  Conference  had  been  in  some 
trouble.  The  golden  days  w^hen  Churches  will  be 
always  at  peace  are  to  come  yet;  they  had  not  come 
in  1802.  Asbury  was  delighted,  however,  when  the 
difficulty,  of  which  we  know  nothing,  was  settled. 
His  tour  northward  led  him  into  New  England  again, 
and  he  went  as  far  north  as  New  Hampshire.     He 


Francis  As  bury,  207 

was  not  a  little  indignant  that  Methodists  had  to 
pay  tax  for  the  support  of  the  standing  order,  not 
perhaps  considering  the  fact  that  this  compulsory 
support  of  the  Congregational  clergy  was  doing  not 
a  little  to  drive  men  into  the  Methodist  fold.  He 
came  by  his  old  friend  Garrettson's  on  the  Hudson, 
who  had  the  most  elegant  home  of  any  Methodist 
preacher  on  the  continent,  and  returning  to  the  south 
he  took  Nicholas  Snethen,  whom  he  had  had  as  a 
traveling  companion  the  year  before,  as  his  associ- 
ate again,  and  made  his  w^ay  to  the  Valley  of  Vir- 
ginia. In  passing  through  Winchester,  as  he  w^as 
going  southward,  he  heard  that  James  O'Kelly  was 
in  the  village  and  was  sick.  Aebury  sent  him  word 
that  he  w^ould  call  and  see  him  if  it  was  agreeable, 
and  the  two  old  men  met  once  more.  They  made  no 
allusion  to  differences.  Asbury  prayed  for  his  old 
friend,  and  they  parted  to  meet  no  more  on  earth. 

He  now  moved  up  the  valley,  preaching  as  he 
went.  It  was  a  time  of  revival,  and  nothing  so  de- 
lighted him  as  lively,  noisy  meetings,  and  they  were 
to  be  found  all  along  the  route.  He  went  on  through 
Botetourt  to  the  Salt  Works,  where,  he  said,  there 
was  a  little  salt,  but  when  sister  Kussell  was  gone 
he  thought  there  would  be  a  deficienc3\  Then  he 
entered  the  Holston  country,  preaching  every  day. 
Near  Jonesboro,  Tennessee,  he  attended  a  camp 
meeting.  William  McKendree,  who  was  the  presid- 
ing elder  of  the  Western  District,  now  joined  him 
and  accompanied  him  toward  the  Conference,  which 
was  to  meet  at  Station  Camp,  in  Koane  county.  They 
had  to  camp  out  in  the  woods,  and  lying  too  far  from 
the  camp  fire,  he  caught  cold,  and  as  a  result  his 


208  Francis  Asbury. 

throat  became  involved.  He  was  soon  a  very  sick 
man,  but  McKendree  nursed  him  tenderly.  He  grew 
worse,  rheumatism  followed,  and  sick  as  he  was  they 
were  forced  to  camp  in  the  mountains.  McKendree 
made  a  tent  for  him  out  of  his  blankets,  where  he 
caught  a  little  sleep.  By  an  unfortunate  accident 
he  was  hurt  severely  in  his  feet,  and  was  unable  to 
get  on  or  off  his  horse  without  help.  McKendree 
lifted  him  like  a  sick  child  in  his  arms  and  bore  him 
into  the  houses  at  which  they  stopped,  but  despite 
it  all  the  unconquerable  man  preached  at  a  meeting 
appointed  for  him.  At  Justice  HufCaker's  he  heard 
that  Snethen  had  gone  to  fill  his  appointments  in 
Georgia,  and  he  then  consented  to  rest  a  week.  Then 
he  clambered  over  the  mountains,  and  with  incredi- 
ble difficulty  reached  South  Carolina  and  came  to 
Rembert's,  wiiere  he  remained  for  ten  days,  and  here 
spent  the  closing  days  of  the  year  1802.  McKen- 
dree, who  accompanied  him  on  this  tour  a  consider- 
able part  of  the  w^ay,  was  his  trusted  corps  command- 
er; and  a  few  years  before  when  Francis  Poythress 
lost  his  mental  balance,  Asbury  had  ordered  him  to 
Kentucky.  He  w^ent  just  in  time.  That  v/onderful 
revival  which  marks  the  close  of  the  last  century 
and  the  beginning  of  this  had  just  begun  when  he 
reached  the  field.  Never  was  there  a  greater  de- 
mand for  a  cool  head  and  a  strong  ai*m,  and  McKen- 
dree had  them  in  a  high  degree.  We  shall  see  him 
often  in  the  future. 


CHAPTEE  XXX. 

1803. 

The  South  Carolina  Conference— Scotch  in  North  Carolina- 
Mr.  Meredith'ri  Work  in  Wilmington  —  Cumberland  Street 
Church  in  Norfolk— Northward  Journey— Merchandise  of 
Priests  in  Boston— Southward  Again— Trip  to  Ohio— Ken- 
tucky—Dr.  Ilinde  and  His  Blister— Journey  to  Charleston- 
Conference  at  Augusta. 

THE  South  Carolina  Conference  met  at  Camden 
in  January,  1803.  It  met  on  Saturday,  and  re- 
mained in  session  till  Wednesday.  This  had  been  a 
year  of  great  revivals,  and  over  three  thousand  had 
united  with  the  Church  in  the  bounds  of  this  Confer- 
ence. Asbury  read  the  appointments,  as  was  his  cus- 
tom, and  then  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  immedi- 
ately away.  He  went  at  once  to  Charleston,  and 
after  a  few  days  there,  with  his  companions  took  the 
oft-traveled  road  through  Georgetown  and  through 
the  pines  of  South  Carolina  into  North  Carolina. 
Snethen,  young,  vigorous,  and  eloquent,  did  most  of 
the  preaching;  but  the  bishop  preached  now  and 
then,  and  generally  on  "Christian  Perfection,"  which 
he  was  still  striving  to  attain.  He  says :  "  I  feel  it  my 
duty  to  speak  chiefly  on  perfection,  and  above  all  to 
strive  to  attain  that  which  I  preach."  Through  mud 
and  cold,  preaching  in  houses  open  as  a  sieve,  they 
made  their  way  in  the  pine  forests  of  North  Carolina. 
After  the  battle  of  Culloden,  in  Scotland,  many  of 
the  malcontented  Highlanders  w^ho  were  on  that  ill- 
fated  field  were  exiled  to  the  colony  of  North  Caro- 
14  (209) 


210  Francis  Asbury. 

lina,  and  in  Bladen,  Robinson,  and  Cumberland  coun- 
ties they  had  their  homes.  Thej  had  ministers  of 
the  Kirk,  from  Scotland,  to  preach  to  them.  They 
read  their  Gaelic  Bibles  and  sang  their  Gaelic  hymns. 
They  were  a  thrifty,  religious  people,  and  prospered. 
In  Fayetteville  they  had  a  strong  hold.  Here, 
through  the  agency  of  Henry  Evans,  a  colored  man, 
the  Methodists  had  not  only  gathered  a  society  of 
blacks  and  a  few  whites,  but  they  had  built  a  small 
chapel.  In  Wilmington,  also,  Mr.  Meredith  had 
gathered  a  society  of  seven  hundred  blacks  and  a 
few  whites,  and  a  little  two-room  parsonage  was 
built  on  the  church  lot.  The  negroes  here  hired 
their  time  of  their  masters,  and  were  growing  in 
wealth.  At  this  time  (1896),  nearly  a  hundred  years 
since  Asbury  preached  there,  not  only  have  the 
whites  several  handsome  churches,  but  the  descend- 
ants of  these  negroes  have  some  of  the  largest  and 
handsomest  churches  in  the  city. 

They  rode  for  miles  through  slashes,  or  through 
wild  pine  forests  with  now  and  then  a  cabin,  and  at 
night  lodged  in  the  humble  home  of  some  poor  set- 
tler. The  bishop  evidently  found  the  people  of  On- 
slow county,  through  which  he  passed,  rather  hard 
to  move,  for  he  says:  "I  conclude  I  shall  have  no 
more  appointments  between  Wilmington  and  New 
Berne.  There  is  a  description  of  people  we  must  not 
preach  to.  The  people  of  Onslow  seem  to  resemble 
the  ancient  Jews,  'they  please  not  God,  and  are  con- 
trary to  all  men.' " 

In  New  Berne  they  rested  for  a  few  days,  then 
went  northward.  "In  Williamston  there  were  twen- 
ty families,  in  Tarborough  there  were  thirty-three, 


Francis  As  bury,  211 

and  the  people  had  more  trade  than  religion.  In 
Halifax  there  was  a  decent  and  respectable  congre- 
gation from  the  forty  families  there."  The  Confer- 
ence met  at  Dromgoole's,  in  Virginia,  and  after  a 
session  of  five  days  closed  in  great  peace.  There 
was  preaching  out  of  doors,  although  it  was  in 
March.  Whatcoat,  then  quite  a  feeble  man,  was 
with  him  on  this  tour. 

Then  eastward  they  rode  to  Norfolk  and  Forts- 
mouth.  He  says:  "The  new  church  in  Cumberland 
street,  Norfolk,  is  the  best  in  Virginia  belonging  to 
our  society.  The  pulpit  is  high,  with  a  witness,  like 
that  awkward  thing  in  Baltimore,  calculated  for  the 
gallery,  and  high  at  that."  In  Petersburg  he  found 
them  building  a  new  church,  sixty  by  forty,  and  two 
stories  high.  He  went  now  to  Baltimore,  stopping 
as  usual  on  the  way  to  preach  as  often  as  possible. 
The  Conference  met  in  Baltimore  April  1 ;  there  was 
preaching  three  times  every  day.  After  the  ses- 
sion he  went  to  Perry  Hall,  and  then  made  a  short 
visit  to  his  old  friends  in  Harford,  and  through 
storms  of  wind  and  snow  on  through  northern  Mary- 
land to  the  eastern  shore.  He  stops  long  enough  to 
say:  "My  mind  is  in  a  great  calm.  I  have  felt  much 
self-possession ;  indeed,  age,  grace,  and  the  weight  of 
responsibility  of  one  of  the  greatest  charges  upon 
earth,  ought  to  make  me  serious.  In  addition  to  this 
charge  of  superintendence,  I  strive  to  feel  and  live 
perfect  love." 

As  he  went  through  the  eastern  shore  on  his  way 
to  the  meeting  of  the  Philadelphia  Conference,  which 
met  at  Duck  Creek,  he  could  not  but  rejoice  in  the 
changes  which  had  passed  over  that  section  since 


212  Francis  As  bub  y. 

be  had  first  entered  it.  He  loved  the  eastern  shore 
of  Maryland,  and  as  long  as  he  lived  paid  it  an  an- 
nual visit,  and  now  he  saw  everywhere  the  fruits 
of  his  early  labors.  The  Conference  met  at  Duck 
Creek  town,  and  in  a  Quaker  meetinghouse.  He 
seems  to  have  had  an  unusual  rest  from  bodily  af- 
fliction for  some  time,  but  when  he  reached  Duck 
Creek  town  he  had  to  submit  to  tooth-drawing,  ca- 
thartics, and  bleeding;  but  despite  it  all  he  sat  in 
the  Conference  for  the  four  days  of  its  session.  Ear- 
ly in  May  he  left  for  New  York,  and  preached  in  his 
old  church  home  at  John  Street,  and  took  legal  steps 
to  secure  a  legacy  made  by  Miss  De  Peyster. 

Without  any  special  adventure  he  reached  Con- 
necticut. If  the  Methodists  were  now  disposed  to 
fret  at  the  legal  support  given  to  the  clergy  of  the 
standing  order,  the  Baptists  were  not  so  submissive, 
and  supposing  the  Methodists  would  join  with  them, 
they  sent  a  request  to  Asbury  and  Whatcoat  to  pe- 
tition the  legislature  for  relief.  But  Asbury  said: 
"We  are  neither  popes  nor  politicians;  let  our  breth- 
ren assert  their  own  liberties." 

At  length  he  reached  Boston,  where,  with  eighteen 
members  present,  the  New  England  Conference  met 
in  the  solitary  little  chapel.  Joshua  Soule  was  or- 
dained an  elder  at  this  Conference.  The  great  want 
of  Boston,  Asbury  said,  was  "good  religion  and  good 
water;  but  how  can  this  city  and  Massachusetts  be 
in  any  other  than  a  melancholy  state — worse,  per- 
haps, for  true  i)iety  than  any  other  part  of  the  Un- 
ion? What!  reading  priests  and  alive!  no;  dead, 
by  nature,  by  formality,  by  sin."  "I  will  not  men- 
tion names,  but  I  could  tell  of  a  congregation  which 


Francis  Asdvuy.  213 

sold  their  priest  to  anotlier  in  Boston  for  one  thou- 
sand dolhirs  and  hired  tlie  money  out  at  the  unlaw- 
ful interest  of  twenty-five  or  thirty  per  cent.  Lord, 
have  mercy  upon  the  priest  and  people  who  can 
think  of  buying  the  kingdom  of  heaven  with  money ! 
How  would  it  tell  in  the  south  that  priests  were 
among  the  notions  of  Yankee  traffic?"  This  priest 
thus  disposed  of  was  the  father  of  Ralph  Waldo  Em- 
erson. It  is  evident  that  Mr.  Asbury  did  not  have  a 
high  estimate  of  New  England  piety;  and  between 
the  contempt  of  the  standing  order  for  the  fanatical 
Methodists,  and  the  want  of  faith  which  the  Metho- 
dists had  in  the  standing  order,  there  was  but  little 
room  to  choose.  Jesse  Lee  began  fifteen  years  be- 
fore the  work  of  hammering  away  on  the  Saybrook 
platform,  and  there  had  now  followed  him  a  body  of 
sterling  young  men  who  were  doing  the  same  work ; 
and  despite  the  fact  of  the  establishment  and  its 
taxes,  the  societies  grew  and  the  preachers  multi- 
plied. There  were  among  them  Sylvester  Hutchin- 
son, Martin  Ruter,  Joshua  Boule,  Daniel  Ostrander, 
and  Elijah  Hedding.  They  had  been  distributed  in 
all  parts  of  the  New  England  states,  and  Avere  win- 
ning their  way  more  and  more  each  year.  At  this 
time  New  Hampshire,  Vermont,  and  Connecticut  had 
not  been  drawn  upon  by  the  richer  fields  of  Ohio  and 
the  farther  west,  and  Asbury  found  the  rural  sections 
full  of  sturdy  people  who  lived  in  solid  comfort.  It 
must  be  said  in  justice  to  New  England  that  the  good 
bishop  was  a  little  given  to  somewhat  harsh  judg- 
ments upon  Calvinists  and  a  well-paid  clergy,  and 
that  he  had  little  use  for  read  sermons,  and  was  a 
very  Quaker  in  his  dislike  of  steeples    and    bells. 


214  Francis  Asbury. 

From  New  England  lie  came  through  New  York  back 
to  Philadelphia,  where  he  made  ready  for  his  jour- 
ney to  the  far  west.  He  turned  his  face  to  the  west 
and  passed  through  the  lower  tier  of  counties  in 
Pennsylvania.  Henry  Boehm,  a  German,  whose  fa- 
ther, Martin  Boehm,  had  been  driven  from  the  Men- 
nonites  because  of  his  pietist  views,  and  who  had 
joined  the  Methodists,  went  with  him  as  a  traveling 
companion,  preaching  in  German  to  his  countrymen, 
of  whom  there  were  many.  The  bishop  says  of  this 
part  of  Pennsylvania  in  which  they  were  now^  trav- 
eling: "I  feel  and  have  felt  for  thirty -two  years  for 
Pennsylvania,  the  most  wealthy,  and  the  most  care- 
less of  God  and  the  things  of  God,  but  I  hope  God 
will  shake  the  state  and  the  churches.  There  are 
now  upward  of  twenty  German  preachers;  some  have 
connected  with  Mr.  Otterbein  and  Martin  Boehm, 
but  they  want  authority  and  the  Church  w^ants  disci- 
pline." In  Pittsburg  the  Methodists  had  no  church, 
and  he  preached  in  the  courthouse. 

Poor  Whatcoat,  who  had  been  with  him,  was  not 
able  to  go  farther,  and  the  saintly  and  useful  Wil- 
son Lee  was  compelled  also  to  leave  him;  but  Asbury 
went  on  his  way  with  young  Boehm,  crossing 
through  Ohio  county,  Virginia,  into  the  new  state 
of  Ohio.  He  was  himself  suffering  with  dysentery, 
and  the  journey  was  a  trying  one,  but  he  kept  on  his 
way.  In  Ohio  the  Church  was  making  rapid  prog- 
ress. Governor  Edward  Tiffin  was  a  Methodist  and 
a  local  preacher.  Asbury  visited  him,  and  on  the 
28th  of  September  crossed  the  Ohio  Eiver  into  Ken- 
tucky. He  passed  rapidly  to  Mount  Gerizim,  where 
the  Kentuckv  Conference  was  to  hold  its  session. 


Francis  As  bury,  215 

Here  the  Western  Conference,  which  embraced  the 
Holstou,  the  Middle  Tennessee,  and  the  Kentucky 
and  Ohio  country,  held  its  session.  McKendree  was 
in  charge  of  the  Kentucky  District,  and  men  like 
^Mlliam  Burke,  Thomas  ^Yilkerson,  Lewis  Garrett, 
James  Gwin,  Tobias  Gibson,  Jesse  Walker,  and  Hen- 
ry Smith  were  among- the  workers.  It  w^as  a  time 
of  revival,  and  there  was  x)reaching  every  day,  and 
twenty  souls  were  converted.  Asbury  was  quite  un- 
well, but  he  pressed  on,  passing  through  Paris,  Ken- 
tucky, which  had  in  it  even  then  about  four  hundred 
houses  and  a  stone  preaching  house  of  the  Presby- 
terians. He  visited  Dr.  Hinde,  the  grandfather  of 
Bishop  Kavanaugh,  once  a  surgeon  under  General 
Wolfe,  and  an  infidel.  The  doctor  had  married  into 
a  Virginia  family,  and  when  his  wife  was  awakened 
among  the  Methodists,  he  had  blistered  her  head  to 
cure  her  of  her  madness;  but  he  was  converted,  and 
was  now  a  Methodist.  The  highways  were  crowded 
with  travelers,  and  while  they  may  have  broken  the 
spell  of  loneliness  they  by  no  means  improved  the 
character  of  the  roads,  and  as  he  returned  Asbury 
found  the  way  through  the  Gap  into  Tennessee  but 
little  better  than  when  he  came  over  it  the  first  time 
fifteen  years  before.  He  could  endure  a  great  deal 
of  discomfort  without  complaint ;  indeed,  one  has  to 
knov/  much  of  the  times  and  of  the  topography  of 
the  country  in  order  to  realize  what  he  did  endure, 
but  the  story  of  his  hardships  will  sometimes  come 
out  in  his  narrative.  Stopping  now  at  a  house  un- 
finished and  filled  with  brutal  travelers,  and  then  in 
a  little  house  ten  by  twelve  feet  in  size,  wiiere  there 
w^ere  within  a  man  and  his  wife  and  six  children — 


216  Francis  As  bury. 

one  of  them  always  in  motion — and  without  there 
were  rain  and  wind;  sleeping  in  beds  from  which  he 
contracted  a  royal  but  rather  nameless  disorder, 
against  which  a  brimstone  shirt  was  his  only  protec- 
tion, and  then  pushing  across  the  mountains,  over 
the  worst  road  in  America,  he  at  last  reached  a  rest- 
ing place;  but  he  says,  "My  soul  is  tranquil,  the  air 
is  pure,  and  the  house  of  God  is  near."  The  remain- 
der of  the  trying  journey  w^as  through  the  moun- 
tains of  Tennessee  and  North  Carolina  until  he  final- 
ly reached  father  John  Douthat's,  in  South  Carolina, 
where  he  bade  farewell  for  awhile,  as  he  said,  to  the 
"filth,  fieas,  rattlesnakes,  hills,  mountains,  rocks, 
and  rivers."  He  now  went  across  the  western  part 
of  South  Carolina,  and  going  through  Greenville, 
Laurens,  and  Richland  counties,  he  came  into  Colum- 
bia, like  an  Indian  chief,  with  his  blanket  around 
him  to  protect  him  from  rain,  and  went  to  John  Har- 
per's, in  whose  house  he  held  a  family  union,  preach- 
ing to  a  respectable  body  of  hearers.  The  South 
Carolina.  Conference  was  to  meet  in  Augusta,  but, 
as  always,  he  visited  Charleston,  and  now  took  pos- 
session of  the  parsonage,  the  first  in  the  South  Caro- 
lina  Conference;  or,  as  he  calls  it,  "the  new  house 
built  for  the  preacher,  near  the  new  chapel."  This 
little  parsonage  is  described  by  Bishop  Andrew  in 
his  "Reminiscences":  "The  old,  odd-shaped  house  de- 
fying all  sorts  of  architectural  style,  was  a  house  of 
shreds  and  patches,  and  stood  almost  touching  Beth- 
el church.  Below  stairs  was  the  dining-room  stuck 
up  in  one  corner;  at  the  other  you  went  into  the  yard, 
from  a  little  cuddy  in  which  was  the  water  pail;  but 
the  grand  room  of  the  lower  story  was  the  Confer- 


Fbancis  As  bury.  217 

ence  room.  In  this  was  transacted  ail  the  business 
of  the  session.  Here  you  met  every  week  either 
stewards  or  leaders,  white  or  black;  and  here  the 
preachers  had  to  have  all  cases  of  complaints  or  tri- 
al, especially  among  the  blacks;  and  to  this  room 
also  came,  at  stated  intervals,  all  who  wished  to  join 
on  trial.  Here  Asbury  had  prayer  at  sunrise  for  all 
who  came.'' 

After  a  two  w^eeks'  rest  in  Charleston,  he  made 
his  wa}'  by  the  old  route  to  Augusta,  where  the  South 
Carolina  Conference  was  to  hold  its  session,  which 
it  did  in  the  January  following.  Among  the  exiles 
from  Hayti  was  a  Frenchman,  Peter  Cantalou.  He 
became  a  Protestant  and  a  Methodist,  and  at  his 
home  the  Conference  w^as  held.  As  there  was  a 
month  between  the  Conferences,  Asbury  went  up 
the  country  and  made  an  extensive  tour  through  all 
Ihe  settled  portions  of  the  state.  He  was  enter- 
tained in  Louisville  by  Mr.  Flournoy.  He  speaks  of 
Flournoy  as  a  new  convert.  Alas!  his  conversion 
was  not  of  long  duration ;  but  his  wife,  to  w^hom  the 
bishop  alludes  as  one  of  "the  respectables,"  and  who 
was  one  of  the  famous  Cobb  family,  long  continued 
to  bless  the  Church  by  a  beautiful  and  saintly  life. 
She  was  the  aunt  of  Howell  Cobb,  and  the  grand- 
mother of  Rev.  H.  J.  Adams,  and  a  kinsvroman  of 
Chief  Justice  Jackson.  Bishop  Coke  had  joined  As- 
bury in  Augusta,  and  they  were  together  for  the  ses- 
sion of  the  Conference,  which  began  on  January  4, 
1S04. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

1804. 

Conference  in  Augusta — Reasons  for  Never  Marrying — Journey 
Northward — General  Conference — Slavery  Question  Again — 
Confined  by  Sickness — Letter  to  Hitt — Journey  to  the  West, 
and  Thence  to  Charleston. 

THE  new  year  began  with  the  meeting  of  the 
South  Carolina  Conference  in  the  home  of  Pe- 
ter Cantalou,  on  Ellis  street  in  Augusta.  Jt  opened 
its  session  on  Monday  and  closed  on  Thursday,  and 
the  next  Monday  Asbury  reached  Camden,  w^here,  at 
the  house  of  one  of  his  brethren  (probably  Isaac 
Smith's),  he  parted  with  Dr.  Coke,  giving  him  a  plan 
for  a  journey  as  far  as  Boston  before  the  General 
Conference  met  in  May.  After  a  week  in  Camden 
he  began  his  tour  to  the  east  by  riding  to  James 
Eembert's,  where  he  rested  for  a  week,  and  then 
went  as  far  south  as  Georgetown.  After  years  of 
hard  work  in  Georgetown,  there  were  only  twenty 
whites  in  the  society,  but  there  were  four  hundred 
blacks.  Mr.  Hammett  had  built  a  church  there 
which  now  fell  into  the  hands  of  Asbury,  as  had  the 
churches  in  Charleston  and  Vrilmington.  With 
Alex.  McCaine  as  a  traveling  companion,  he  went 
northward. 

He  was  now  sixty  years  old.    He  had  decided  never 

to  marry,  and  when  he  was  in  Georgetown  he  wrote 

in  his  journal  the  reason  for  this  final  decision.     He 

was  twenty-six  years  old  when  he  came  to  America, 

(218) 


Francis  As  bury.  219 

and  it  had  not  been  a  proper  thing  to  marry  up  to 
that  time.  He  expected  to  return  to  England  in  five 
years,  but  it  was  ten  years  before  his  return  could  be 
considered,  because  of  the  war.  Then  he  was  chosen 
bishop.  His  duties  demanded  constant  travel,  and 
he  could  not  think  it  was  just  or  kind  for  him  to  mar- 
ry one  whom  he  must  leave  for  so  much  of  the  time. 
His  salary  was  small;  his  mother  needed  all  the  help 
he  could  give  her,  and  he  was  an  old  man  when  she 
died.  He  hoped  God  and  the  sex  would  forgive  him 
if  he  had  done  wrong  in  thus  remaining  unmarried. 

His  journey  into  South  and  North  Carolina  was 
through  the  counties  on  the  coast.  He  visited  Wil- 
mington, New  Berne,  Washington,  Edenton,  and 
Elizabeth  City — where  there  was  as  yet  no  home  for 
the  Methodists — and  through  Norfolk  and  Suffolk 
back  into  the  circuit  he  had  traveled  thirty  years  be- 
fore to  Salem,  in  Mecklenburg,  where-  the  Virginia 
Conference  held  its  session.  The  Baltimore  Confer- 
ence was  to  meet  in  Alexandria,  and  he  rode  direct- 
ly through  the  midland  counties  of  Virginia  to  its 
place  of  session.  The  new  church  was  then  built, 
and  he  preached  in  it,  and  after  a  short  session  the 
Conference  adjourned.  The  General  Conference 
was  to  meet  in  May.  Asbury  had  little  taste  for 
changes  of  any  kind,  and  he  did  not  relish  these 
quadrennial  sessions  w^hen  the  Discipline  was  to  be 
revised  from  beginning  to  end.  He  was  sorry  when 
the  Conference  assembled  and  relieved  when  it  ad- 
journed. 

The  presiding  eldership  had  not  given  perfect  sat- 
isfaction, and  there  were  attempts  made,  he  said, 
"upon  the  ruling  eldership."     He  says,  "We  had 


220  Francis  As  bury. 

great  talk."  It  is  the  i^rovince  of  the  historian  to 
tell  of  the  doings  of  this  Conference,  which  was  one 
of  the  last  general  conventions  which  was  held.  This 
Conference  consisted  of  one  hundred  and  twelve 
members,  and  the  inequality  of  the  representation 
is  seen  by  the  figures:  The  Boston  Conference,  four; 
Virginia  Conference,  seventeen;  Baltimore  Confer- 
ence, twenty-nine;  Philadelphia  Conference,  forty- 
one;  New  York  Conference,  twelve. 

Dr.  Coke  w\as  present.  Asbury,  according  to  the 
journals,  made  several  motions:  first,  that  the  doors 
should  be  kept  closed ;  second,  that  an  assistant  book 
agent  should  be  chosen;  and  third,  that  the  Annual 
Conferences  should  be  advised  to  restrict  the  preach- 
ers from  preaching  improper  matter. 

The  Conference  desired  that  he  should  assist  in 
forming  a  chapter  on  slavery  to  suit  northern  and 
southern  sections.  Asbury  knew  the  absurdity  of 
the  proposition,  and  decided  to  have  no  part  in  it. 
A  committee  attempted  it,  and  egregiously  failed. 
Up  to  this  time  there  had  been  no  limit  to  the  bish- 
op's authority  to  appoint  preachers  for  as  long  a 
time  as  he  chose,  but  George  Dougherty  moved  that 
a  time  limit  be  fixed,  and  it  was  decided  that  it  should 
be  at  two  years.  The  General  Conference  of  1800 
had  been  the  revival  Conference,  and  Asbury  hoped 
for  the  same  gracious  results  at  this  one,  but  was 
sadly  disappointed. 

As  soon  as  the  Conference  was  over  he  left  for 
the  Philadelphia  Conference.  It  sat  five  days  and  a 
half,  and  the  bishop  then  started  on  his  journey  to 
New  York.  For  years  the  faithful  anim.al  who  bore 
him  w^as  a  mare  whom  he  called  "Little  Jane,"  and 


Francis  As  bury.  221 

to' whom  lie  was  tenderly  attached.  On  this  journey 
he  says :  "  Here  my  little  Jane  was  horned  by  a  cow 
and  was  himed.  She  is  done,  ijerhaps,  forever  for 
me,  but  it  may  be  all  for  the  best.  I  am  unwell,  the 
weather  is  bad,  but  except  my  feelings  for  the  poor 
beast  I  am  peaceful  and  resigned.  I  was  able  to 
write  but  not  to  preach  on  the  Sabbath."  Poor  lit- 
tle Jane!  How  many  weary  miles  had  she  borne  the 
faithful  apostle,  and  how  tender  was  his  love  for  her! 
We  cannot  but  hope  that  the  ignominious  wound  was 
not  fatal;  that  Jane  had  greener  pastures  and  an 
easier  life  than  she  had  had  in  days  gone  by. 

Procuring  another  Jane,  he  went  on  his  way  to 
New  York  and  into  New  England.  The  constant 
travel  on  horseback  and  the  very  hot  weather  of  June 
were  trying  to  him,  but  not  so  much  so  as  the  trials 
of  his  office.  He  was  very  sensitive,  and  felt  keenly 
the  misjudgments  and  censures  of  some  of  those  with 
whom  he  had  to  do.  He  could  not  give  satisfaction 
to  many,  and  they  poured  upon  his  head  their  vials  of 
wrath.  "O  man!  thou  hidest  thy  face  and  changest 
thy  voice," he  says,  "and  I  must  be  troubled  forsooth, 
l^ut  I  am  just  as  serene  as  ever  as  to  what  man  can 
say  or  do.  Whom  shall  I  trust?  Why,  who  but  a 
good  and  true  and  never-failing  God."  His  journey 
through  New  England  was  by  much  the  same  route; 
through  Connecticut,  Rhode  Island,  Massachusetts, 
and  over  the  rough  hills  of  New  Hampshire  and  Ver- 
mont back  into  New  York.  It  was  a  very  fatiguing 
journey,  and  he  says,  "I  suffered  from  hunger  and 
was  skinned  several  times."  He  had  spent  fifteen 
dollars  in  traveling  from  the  20th  of  June  to  the  27th 
of  Julv.    This  was  to  him  a  very  heavy  outlay,  and 


222  FiiAxcis  As  BUB  r. 

seemed  extravagant.  He  rarely  had  a  bill  to  pay  in 
the  south,  and  but  few  in  the  west,  and  this  outlay 
for  food  for  man  and  beast  seemed  to  him  to  be  very 
extraordinary.  He  came  on  rapidly  through  Penn- 
sylvania and  upper  Delaware,  and  by  September  was 
in  the  west  of  Pennsylvania,  riding  over  the  steep 
hills  of  Wayne  county;  but  it  was  not  in  the  power 
of  his  feeble  frame  to  bear  up  under  all,  and  he  was 
forced  to  yield.  For  thirty  days  he  was  in  a  sick 
room.  In  the  kind  family  of  Harry  Stevens  he  was 
attended  hj  two  doctors,  who  at  last  happily  left  him 
to  himself.  They  were  seldom  right  in  their  treat- 
ment, he  said,  and  medicines  were  not  to  be  had. 
He  was  not  able  to  travel,  but  travel  he  must,  and  he 
began  his  farther  journey  to  the  west.  Eiding 
brought  on  a  fever  and  cough.  Whatcoat,  feeble  too, 
w^as  with  him,  and  the  self-sacrificing  Asbury  gave 
him  his  easier  riding  horse  and  took  What  coat's' 
jolting  steed.  They  could  not  hope  to  reach  the 
Kentucky  Conference,  and  barely  hoped  to  get  to 
the  South  Carolina  in  time.  Whatcoat  persisted  in 
going  into  the  west,  and  Asbury  wrote  Daniel  Hitt, 
who  was  on  a  district  in  Ohio : 

Phelps's,  November  7,  1804. 
My  Dear  Daniel:  You  will  be  surprised  to  hear  of  my  pass- 
ing this  way.  I  have  been  sick  upon  Monongahela  and  Ohio 
about  sixty  days.  I  must  needs  preach  at  Union  and  Jacob 
Murphey's ;  ride  twelve  miles  through  the  hot  sun,  and  some 
rain.  This  brought  on  a  chill  and  burning  fever  every  day, 
with  a  most  inveterate  cough.  I  used  emetics,  two;  the  sec- 
ond cleared  me.  I  was  bled  four  times,  and  blistered  four. 
I  was  part  of  my  time  at  Harry  Stevens's,  and  two  weeks  at 
Beck's.  I  had  no  intermission,  but  only  a  remission,  for 
fifty  days.    I  gave  up  my  visit  to  the  eastern.   Brother  What- 


Francis  As  bub  r.  223 

coat  came  up  with  me,  and  stayed  till  two  days  of  my  recov- 
ery. I  came  ofE  as  soon  as  the  Indian  summer  came  on.  I 
came  from  Beck's  (from  Sabbath  to  Sabbath)  to  Cresap'rf. 
I  am  now  on  my  y\ray  to  Charleston.  I  must  make  the  best 
of  good  weather.  I  have  written  to  appoint  a  president;  I 
believe  it  will  come  to  that  in  time.  I  am  in  no  doubt  or 
fear  but  the  connection  will  do  as  well  or  better  without  me 
as  with  me.  The  president  elders  have  more  local  knowl- 
edge; they  have  more  personal  information  of  the  preachers 
and  circuits.  I  only  go  because  it  is  my  appointment  from 
the  Conference,  and  to  cast  in  my  mite;  and  I  cannot  be  idle. 

I  am  happy  to  find  the  work  of  God  is  reviving  to  the  w^est- 
ward.  I  shall  be  pleased  to  have  a  narrative  of  the  work  in 
this  district.  God  certainly  has  a  controversy  with  this  land. 
Many  that  will  not  be  mended  will  be  ended,  or  mended  and 
ended  both.  America  is  the  infant  of  Divine  Providence. 
He  must  begin  to  correct — he  will  correct  us  himself;  he  will 
not  let  others  do  it.  I  make  no  doubt  there  is  not  a  single 
spot  but  will  feel  in  time  (arid  turn)  the  rod  of  God.  The 
sinners  in  the  cities  are  not  sinners  above  all  the  Galileans. 
I  anticipated  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you;  but  time  is  short: 
I  must  improve  every  hour  of  fair  weather  and  sun. 

I  am,  as  ever,  thine,  F.  Asbhry. 

He  received  constant  kindness  from  eyerybodv, 
for,  go  whither  he  would,  he  was  never  among  stran- 
gers. He  was  now,  perhaps,  the  best  known  and 
the  most  beloved  man  in  America.  While  he  was  at 
Cokesbury  he  had  to  punish  a  refractory  student. 
Thirty  years  had  gone,  and  as  he  passed  near  him  he 
called  to  see  him.  He  says:  ^'We  rode  to  James 
Cresap's.  Notwithstanding  what  passed  at  Cokes- 
bury,  he  received  me  as  a  father.  That  matter  might 
have  been  better  managed.  We  were  to  have  all 
the  boys  to  become  angels.  John  Hesselins  sent  me 
a  note  of  invitation  to  see  him,  I  did  so.  He  re- 
minded me  of  his  respectable  father  who  took  me  to 


224  Francis  As  bury. 

liis  house  thirty  years  ago,  in  the  time  I  was  exposed 
to  daily  reproach  and  contemi^t." 

The  bishop  made  the  journey  by  the  most  direct 
route  to  Charleston,  and  without  incident  reached 
there  better,  despiteHiis  fatigue  and  exposure,  than 
when  he  started  from  Pennsylvania,  the  10th  of  Oc- 
tober. When  one  takes  into  consideration  the  char- 
acter of  the  roads,  and  the  feebleness  of  the  man,  and 
the  greatness  of  the  distance,  he  is  amazed  at  the 
fact  that  the  journey  was  made. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

1805. 

Journey  Northward— Letter  to  Hitt— Conference  in  North  Car- 
oUna— Episcopal  Trials— Journey  to  the  North— Journey  to 
the  West  and  the  South. 

THE  Conference  at  Charleston,  which  was  the 
bei>inning  of  the  series,  met  January  1,  1805. 
The  bishop  was  feeble,  but  was  able  to  iDreach,  and 
after  resting  a  week  and  preparing  the  minutes  for 
publication,  he  began  his  tour.  In  a  month's  time 
he  was  to  meet  with  the  Virginia  brethren  at  Tay- 
lor's, in  Granville  county.  North  Carolina.  He  and 
his  companions  nearly  always  chose  a  different  route 
for  each  return  northward,  and  he  now  made  his  way 
through  the  high  waters  and  over  the  wretched 
causeways  through  eastern  South  Carolina  and  into 
eastern  North  Carolina.  The  ferries  were  numerous 
and  the  boats  were  very  poor.  Sometimes  the  trav- 
elers had  to  swim  their  horses,  and  in  doing  so  wet 
their  own  limbs;  sometimes  they  crossed  in  a  canoe 
with  their  horses  swimming  beside  them.  The  ferry- 
boats were  shackling,  and  more  than  once  they  were 
in  great  danger.  Poor,  aged,  feeble  Whatcoat  suf- 
fered much,  and  the  chronic  trouble  which  torment^ 
ed  him  was  fearfully  aggravated  by  this  exposure. 
Asbury  himself  was  bleeding  at  the  lungs,  but,  de- 
spite  all  this,  he  kept  in  motion  and  kept  the  work 
going.  Wherever  there  was  a  place  which  needed  a 
preacher  nnd  a  preacher  could  be  h.nd,  ABbury  or* 
15  (225) 


226  Franc  js  As  bury, 

dered  him  there.  The  battle  was  at  its  height.  Re- 
vivals were  everywhere,  and  never  had  such  success 
attended  the  evangelical  labors  of  the  itinerants.  At 
that  time  the  pastoral  relation,  as  it  at  present  ex- 
ists, was  hardly  known.  Every  preacher  was  an 
evangelist,  and  CA^ery  nerve  was  strained  to  keep  up 
with  the  demand  for  aggressive  work.  The  leading 
spirit  who  directed  all  these  movements,  the  general 
commanding  this  army,  was  this  feeble  old  man  of 
sixty  years,  breaking  down  with  fatigue,  but  still 
clear-headed  and  untiring.  When  he  reached  Fay- 
etteville,  North  Carolina,  where  the  Presbyterians 
were  strong  and  the  Methodists  weak,  Dr.  Flinn,  the 
Presbyterian  minister,  politely  asked  the  good  bish- 
op to  take  his  pulpit,  which  he  as  politely  declined. 
He  was  offered  the  statehouse,  but  refused  it.  Hen- 
ry Evans,  a  most  remarkable  negro,  had  built  a  plain, 
homely  church,  which  was  known  as  the  African 
meetinghouse,  and  in  it  Asbury  preached.  While  in 
the  low  lands  near  Wilmington  he  was  riding 
through  a  rice  plantation  when  he  came  to  an  un- 
bridged  canal.  The  negro  overseer  came  and  made 
a  way  for  them  to  cross,  and  Asbury  found,  to  his 
delight,  that  he  was  one  of  the  ^lethodist  sheep. 
The  housekeeper  gladly  received  the  bishop  into  the 
hospitable  home  of  the  absent  planter.  The  poor 
people,  black  and  white,  w^ho  formed  the  Wilming- 
ton congregation  had  built,  Asbury  said,  an  elegant 
meetinghouse,  sixty-six  by  thirty-six  feet  in  dimen- 
sion.    At  New  Berne  he  wrote  to  Daniel  Hitt : 

New  Berne,  N.  C,  Jan.  26tli,  1805. 
My  Dear  Daniel:  May  the  spirit  of  holy  Daniel  and  a  holy 
God  fill  thy  soul!    I  received  thy  two  letters  at  too  late  a 
period  to  be  answered  from  Charleston.     I  found  it  proper 


FliAi\CIS  AiSBVRY.  227 

to  move  as  soon  as  Conference  expired.  God  is  good  to  me. 
I  found,  as  I  proceeded  southward,  my  health  increased.  To 
niy  joy,  I  found  brother  Whatcoat  had  returned  from  the 
western  states  in  good  health — all  things  in  good  order,  al- 
most everything  done  my  letter  anticipated;  but  my  letter 
not  received  till  after  the  Conference;  increase  of  eighteen 
preachers  in  the  Kentucky  Conference;  two  thousand  mem- 
bers: South  Conference,  eleven  preachers,  few  located;  in- 
crease of  members,  fifteen  hundred,  notwithstanding  the 
deaths  and  great  removals  to  the  west,  whose  membership 
must  be  suspended  for  a  time.  We  had  great  love  and  union, 
but  little  money,  I  believe  the  Conference  in  the  south  was 
near  one  thousand  dollars  insolvent.  Our  married  men 
sweep  us  off  in  the  circuits,  and  share  a  great  part  of  the 
bounty  of  two  hundred  and  sixty  dollars,  Charter,  and  Book 
Concern.  Yet  such  is  the  consequence  ol  the  work:  we  em- 
ploy all  we  judge  worthy.  I  calculate  upon  twenty  thousand 
added  to  the  societies,  and  twenty  thousand  dollars  insol- 
vency. We  must  not  have  gold  and  grace.  God  will  give 
us  souls  for  wages.  We  overseers  find  this  the  very  nick  of 
time,  in  the  winter  season,  to  visit  the  seaports:  these  give  us 
an  opportunity  of  preaching  to  hundreds  of  the  inhabitants 
of  the  sea.  Our  town  stands  are  of  great  magnitude:  by  be- 
ing present,  I  feel  their  importance,  especially  when  w^e  can 
get  the  Jews  and  Gentiles  to  work  it  right.  I  find  it  matter 
of  very  great  heartfelt  concern  to  settle  the  frontiers  of  the 
sea,  as  well  as  the  frontiers  of  the  east,  west,  and  north.  We 
have  the  following  towns  which  call  for  stationed  preachers: 
Augusta,  Columbia,  Camden,  Georgetown — yes,  oh  that  I 
could  command  Savannah  also!  In  the  North  State,  Pay- 
etteville,  Raleigh,  Wilmington,  New  Berne,  Washington, 
Edenton,  poor  Halifax,  then  Portsmouth,  Norfolk,  Peters- 
burg, Richmond,  and  some  others;  for  when  we  can  come 
at  a  square  of  two  miles,  and  two  thousand  souls,  it  is  an 
object  that  we  shall  not  perhaps  find  in  a  circuit;  besides 
comers  and  goers,  as  we  generally  say.  We  gain  in  this 
town,  upon  Trent,  a  dark  place.  A  poor  old  local  preacher 
labored  and  preached  till  he  was  called  home:  now  God  has 
visited  his  children  and  neighbors;  one  hundred  souls  have 
been  brought  in.    The  work  grows  in  Georgia  and  the  Car- 


228  Francis  As  bury, 

olinas.  I  can  see  a  surprising  difference  everywhere  since 
the  year  1785.  Oh,  what  prospects  open  in  1805!  I  am 
lengthy;  I  am  loving;  you  are  liberal  in  writing  to  me.  You 
have  my  letter  that  was  lost  by  this  time.  I  have  a  letter 
from  Joshua  Taylor  informing  me  of  the  success  of  our  Con- 
ference in  the  Maine — of  a  camp  meeting  and  several  happy 
.seasons  in  the  Maine.  Glory!  I  thank  you  for  the  printed 
account.     I  have  a  written  one  from  Billy  Thacher. 

The  famous  Abner  Wood  is  turned  Baptist  from  stem  to 
stern.  He  was  going  on  till  they  suspended  him  preaching 
Baptist-like  upon  the  New  London  Circuit:  now  our  Dis- 
cipline is  a  human  invention:  Jocelin  is  rebaptized.  See  our 
great  Conference  men.    We  must  have  some  drawbacks. 

They  judged  the  camp  meeting  near  Suffolk  was  the  great- 
est ever  known.  Four  hundred  professed  in  four  days.  Bal- 
timore and  the  Point  look  up.  The  fire  of  God  is  broken 
out  in  the  city  of  Brotherly  Love  (Philadelphia) :  near  one 
hundred  souls  converted.  God's  thoughts  are  not  as  ours,  nor 
his  ways  as  our  ways.  I  received  a  long  letter  from  brother 
Willis.  I  have  only  to  add,  he  and  myself  have  served  the 
Church,  the  one  above  forty  years,  local  and  traveling,  the 
other  between  twenty  and  thirty.  We  must  leave  the  gov- 
ernment to  younger  men  now.  You  know  my  thoughts  on 
the  local  eldership;  they  are  yours.  As  to  any  valuable  ends 
he  contemplates,  I  can  see  none  in  his  letter  that  -might  not 
be  answered,  as  to  their  usefulness;  but  a  judicious  presiding 
elder  might  secure.  The  South  Conference  wrote  a  letter  to 
the  trustees  of  the  Charter  Fund,  applauding  gratitude  for 
their  attention.  By  brother  Cooper  a  letter  is  sent  that  they 
are  well  under  way  in  York,  and  much  work  on  hand.  At 
least  I  am  happily  disappointed,  he  is  gone  to  York  to  stay. 
I  am  always  pleased  to  be  disappointed  for  the  best.  B. 
Jones,  Gibson,  N.  Watters,  and  W.  Lee,  all  I  have  heard  of 
the  deaths.  Now,  brother,  perfect  love;  live  it,  preach  it. 
I  have  marked  the  kindling  of  a  fire  in  the  Latin  and  Greek 
Churches,  so  called,  the  French  and  Russians,  the  British 
at  the  bottom.  T  saw  it  some  time,  but  it  is  likely  to  break 
out:  it  will  probably  involve  the  whole  world.  What  can 
■we  say?  Let  us  make  haste  to  promote  the  work  of  God.  Tt 
shall  be  well  with  the  righteous.    T  am  thine,     F.  Asbtjry. 


Francis  Asbuey,  '  229 

From  New  Berne  he  went  on  his  northern  journey, 
in  company  with  poor  Whatcoat,  who  was  su tiering- 
agony  at  times  with  that  physical  ill  that  at  last  took 
him  off.  There  had  been  a  great  deal  of  rain  and 
there  were  heavy  floods,  but  they  managed  to  reach 
Norfolk  and  Portsmouth;  and  then,  through  the 
counties  in  which  Methodism  had  won  her  first  tri- 
umjjhs,  and  where  Asbury  and  Whatcoat  had  both 
traveled  for  nianj  years,  they  made  their  way  to 
Granville  county,  North  Carolina. 

While  that  class  of  x\.mericans,  known  in  these 
days  as  gentry,  had  little  t(5  do  as  a  common  thing 
with  the  Methodists,  there  were  in  every  state  repre- 
sentatives of  the  leading  families  among  her  ad- 
herents, and  Edmond  Taylor  w^as  one  of  the  best  of 
these  people.  He  lived  in  Granville,  and  around 
him  were  other  Methodist  families  of  the  same  char- 
acter, and  no  doubt  at  his  instance  the  Virginia  Con- 
ference held  its  session  at  his  home.  When  the  Con- 
ference concluded,  Asbury  and  Whatcoat  began  their 
journey  to  Winchester, Virginia,  where  the  Baltimore 
Conference  w^as  to  meet.  The  weather  was  severe, 
the  roads  were  bad,  and  the  route  led  them  directly 
over  the  Blue  Kidge  Mountains,  but  they  made  the 
journey  in  time,  and  Asbury  presided  over  the  Con- 
ference. 

He  had  the  usual  trials  of  a  Methodist  bishop. 
Lawrence  McCombs,  one  of  his  leading  preachers,  re- 
fused positively  to  take  his  appointment,  and  had  to 
be  changed;  and  at  the  Philadelphia  Conference  one 
of  the  five  days  of  the  session  was  taken  up  in  hear- 
ing an  appeal  case. 

As  he  passed  through  Baltimore  on  his  way  to  the 


230  Fmai^cis  As  bury. 

east,  the  bishop  preached  for  the  Light-street  peo- 
ple, but  thej  were  dull  of  hearing.  ^'He  feared  the 
people  were  preached  to  death."  As  he  did  every 
year,  he  visited  Perry  Hall.  "It  had  been  repainted 
and  newly  furnished,  and  the  grandchildren  were 
gay  and  playful,  but  he'  and  his  host  felt  that  the 
evening  had  come  to  them."  Two  years  after  he  fol- 
lowed his  friend  of  thirty  years  to  the  grave.  The 
Philadelphia  Conference  met  at  Chestertow^n,  and 
he  presided  over  it,  and  came  on  to  Philadelphia. 
His  lifelong  friend.  Dr.  McGaw,  one  of  the  few  evan- 
gelicals among  the  Episcopal  clergy,  was  dj  ing.  His 
mind  was  affected,  but  his  heart  was  full  of  joy,  and 
Asbury  prayed  at  his  bedside.  So  perfectly  dead 
was  Asbury  to  the  world  that  he  w^as  sometimes  un- 
duly depressed  because  others  did  not  regard  his 
somewhat  arbitrary  dictates.  One  of  these  vras  that 
there  should  be  vocal  prayer  after  each  meal  in  every 
Methodist  home;  and  he  feared,  he  said,  such  was  his 
poor  success,  after  eighteen  years  of  faithful  labor, 
that  some  Methodists  did  not  do  so.  "God  be  gra- 
cious to  us  and  to  such  families  and  unfaithful 
souls!" 

The  New  York  Conference  met  at  Ashgrove,  New 
York,  where  Embury  died,  and  after  its  close  the 
bishop  went  into  New  England.  They  went  the  usu- 
al round,  and  Asbury  made  his  usual  comments,  and 
then,  with  Joseph  Crawford  as  a  companion,  he 
started  to  the  w^est.  A  jersey  wagon  was  purchased 
in  Philadelphia,  and  by  the  usual  difficult  route  he 
went  to  Ohio.  Ohio  was  being  rapidly  peopled,  and 
great  numbers  were  crowding  the  highways.  He 
had  but  entered  the  state  when  his  traveling  com- 


Francis  As  bury,  231 

panion  was  taken  seriously  ill.     Governor  Tiffin  was 
a  local  preacher  and  physician,  as  well  as  governor 
of  the  state,  and  ministered  to  the  sick  preacher,  who 
was  soon  able  to  go  on  liis  journey.     Philip  Gatch, 
his  old  associate  and  his  stern  antagonist  in  the  sac- 
ramental controversy,  had  now  removed  to  Ohio,  and 
was  a  leading  man  in  the  state.     He  was  still  a  de- 
voted Methodist  and  doing  much  to  build  up  the 
Church,  and  the  two  old  companions  met  in  these 
wilds.     Many  of  his  old  Maryland  friends  had  re- 
moved to  Ohio,  many  of  his  Virginia  friends  to  Ken- 
tucky, and  he  found  himself  now  in  the  homes  of 
those  whose  grandfathers  he  had  received  into  the 
societies  in  the  east.     The  journey  through  Ohio  was 
made  with  difficulty,  but  it  was  at  last  made,  and  he 
reached  the  Conference  at  Mount  Gerizim,  in  Ken- 
tucky.    He  had  not  been  able  to  meet  these  frontier 
preachers  the  year  before,  but  in  the  hands  of  the 
matchless  McKendree  the  work  had  not  suffered. 
The  heroic  band  of  twenty-five  received  their  ap- 
pointments,  and  then  by  a  new,  but  by  no  means  an 
improved,  route  they  came  southward.     There  was 
but  little  that  was  unusual  in  their  journey  to  South 
Carolina  and  into  Georgia,  and  despite  this  constant 
journeying,  Asbury  found  time  to  read  J^idge  Mar- 
shall's Life  of  Washington,  which  he  greatly  en- 
joyed.    When  he  reached  Charleston,  many  colored 
people  came  to  see  him,  and  he  had  prayer  with  all 
who  came.     The  Conference  was  to  meet  at  Camden, 
and  on  the  30th  of  December  the  two  bishops  came 
into  Camden.     Asbury  had  met  every  appointment 
and  had  traveled  the  entire  circuit,  going  from  the 
frontiers  of  Georgia  to  the  borders  of  Maine,  and 


232  Francis  As  bury, 

from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Mississippi.  He  had  been 
wonderfully  strong  and  cheerful.  For  some  time 
his  spiritual  conflicts  and  his  conflicts  with  depres- 
sion seem  to  have  ceased.  Doubting  Castle  had 
been  left  far  behind.  There  was  no  question  now 
that  he  was  filled  with  pure  love,  and  his  soul  was 
flooded  with  constant  peace. 

The  work  had  been  so  wonderful  and  was  going 
forward  with  such  great  rapidity  that  his  heart 
was  cheered  with  the  good  news  of  victory.  The 
preachers  were  true  and  heroic,  the  people  respon- 
sive, and  he  was  now  strangely  well,  and  while  all 
the  burden  of  the  bishopric  rested  on  him  he  had 
been  able  to  bear  up  under  it;  but  it  was  evidently 
impossible  that  this  heavy  labor  could  be  long  con- 
tinued, and  it  became  evident  to  him,  as  to  others, 
that  the  episcopacy  must  be  strengthened.  Dr. 
Coke  was  nominally  a  bishop,  but  his  relationship 
was  merely  nominal.  Whatcoat  was  an  invalid,  and 
on  the  shoulders  of  Asbury  rested  the  whole  burden. 
He  felt  the  weight,  but  bravely  bent  himself  to  the 
w  ork  before  him. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

1806. 

Asbury  Alone — Coke  Offers  to  Come  to  America — Offer  De- 
clined— Camp  Meetings  in  the  East — Whatcoat's  Death- 
Western  Tour — Southern  Tour. 

THE  Conferences  of  the  year  1806  began  with 
South  Carolina,  which  the  bishop  called  the 
South  Conference.  The  condition  of  things  was 
anomalous.  There  were  apparently  three  bishops — 
Coke,  Asbury,  and  Whatcoat — and  there  was  in  fact 
but  one.  Whatcoat  was  superannuated,  Coke  was 
in  England,  and  on  Asbury  alone  all  the  labor  ex- 
cept that  of  travel  rested.  Coke  had  married  a  rich 
wife  of  deep  piety,  and  was  willing  now  to  return 
to  America  to  stay  all  the  time.  At  least  he  thought 
he  was,  but  the  fact  w^as  he  could  not  have  remained 
in  any  one  place  long.  He  w^ould  not  have  been  con- 
tent had  he  come  to  America,  but  he  wrote  to  the 
preachers  that  he  was  willing  under  certain  condi- 
tions to  come  and  remain. 

As  there  was  no  General  Conference  in  session, 
this  letter  was  presented  to  the  Annual  Conferences 
for  their  consideration.  Asbury  said  of  the  w^ay  in 
which  it  was  received  at  Baltimore :  "An  answer  was 
given  to  Dr.  Coke's  letter,  I  fear  in  a  manner  that 
will  not  please  him.  An  order  was  passed  that  the 
answer  should  be  presented  to  all  the  Annual  Con- 
ferences. It  was  also  recommended  to  the  Annual 
Conferences  to  consider  on  the  propriety  of  having 

(233) 


234  Francis  As  bury, 

a  select  delegated  Conference.  The  eastern,  western, 
and  southern  Conferences  were  counseled  to  take 
such  measures  as  they  in  their  wisdom  might  see  best, 
to  produce  a  more  equal  representation  from  their 
several  bodies  to  the  General  Conference."  The 
Conference  did  not  recall  Dr.  Coke  then,  and  never 
did;  and  while  his  name  remained  on  the  minutes 
they  recited  the  fact  that  he  was  permitted  to  remain 
in  England.  It  will  be  remembered,  however,  that 
this  was  done  by  the  preachers  as  a  body,  and  not  by 
a  delegated  General  Conference.  The  effort  of  As- 
bury  to  have  a  delegated  General  Conference  pro- 
vided for  at  this  time  was  defeated,  as  well  as  his 
plan  to  have  a  select  number  who  should  elect  an- 
other bishop  before  the  regular  General  Conference 
of  1808. 

After  the  Baltimore  Conference,  Asbury  left  for 
the  Philadelphia  Conference,  which  met  in  Phila- 
delphia. He  made  his  usual  detour  through  the 
eastern  shore  country,  separated  from  Whatcoat, 
but  met  him  again  in  Delaware,  and  took  him  in 
his  carriage.  On  the  journey  the  saintly  old  man 
was  taken  with  a  severe  illness,  and  Asbury  was 
forced  to  leave  him.  The  attack  ended  fatally; 
Whatcoat  died  near  Dover. 

The  Conference  at  Philadelphia  answered  Dr. 
Coke's  letter  in  much  the  way  in  which  it  had  been 
answered  from  Baltimore,  and  so  did  the  Conference 
in  New  York.  This  no  doubt  was  very  much  to  As- 
bury's  mind.  He  had  little  disposition  to  surrender 
the  entire  control  of  any  part  of  the  work,  which 
had  cost  him  so  much,  into  the  hands  of  anyone;  and 
while  he  loved  Dr.  Coke  very  tenderly,  he  knew  him 


Fl'ancis  As  bub  r,  235 

too  well  to  be  willing  voluntarily^  to  step  aside,  and 
yield  place  to  one  in  whose  judgment  he  had  so  little 
confidence.  He  went  from  New  York  to  the  New 
England  Conference.  These  New  England  preach- 
ers had  two  defects,  in  his  eye;  they  w^ould  get  mar- 
ried, and  they  would  stay  in  town.  He  says  the  Con- 
ference sat  seven  hours  a  day.  The  address  con- 
cerning a  new  bishop  was  concurred  in,  but  he  adds: 
"We  did  not,  to  my  grief,  tell  our  experiences,  nor 
make  observations  as  to  what  we  had  known  of  the 
work  of  God;  the  members  were  impatient  to  be 
gone,  particularly  the  married  town-men."  "Why 
did  I  not  visit  this  country  sooner?"  he  says  again. 
"Ah!  what  is  the  toil  of  beating  over  rocks,  hills, 
mountains,  and  deserts  live  thousand  miles  a  year? 
Nothing,  when  we  reflect  it  is  done  for  God,  for 
Christ,  for  the  Holy  Spirit,  the  Church  of  God,  the 
souls  of  poor  sinners,  the  preachers  of  the  gospel  in 
the  seven  Conferences,  one  hundred  and  thirty  thou- 
sand members,  and  one  or  two  millions  who  congre- 
gate with  us  in  the  solemn  worship  of  God.  Oh,  it 
is  nothing." 

Im  order  to  attend  the  Conferences  the  preachers, 
we  learn  from  his  journal,  were  absent  from  their 
work  for  two  or  three  months.  This  is  only  to  be 
accounted  for  by  considering  the  vast  distances  the 
preachers  had  to  travel  on  horseback,  and  even  then 
the  time  taken  in  the  journey  seems  excessive. 

Camp  meetings  had  now  made  their  way  from 
Kentucky  to  this  far  east.  It  is  impossible  proper- 
ly to  estimate  the  ultimate  effect  of  this  accfdental 
assemblage  in  the  barrens  of  Kentucky,  and  As- 
bury's  journals  are  full  of  allusions  to  the  great  work 


236  F BANC  IS  As  BUB  Y. 

wrought  at  them.  He  made  it  his  special  aim  to 
reach  as  many  of  them  as  he  possibly  could,  aud  he 
visited  a  uumber  on  this  tour.  As  he  feared,  What- 
coat  was  dead,  and  he  pays  this  beautiful  tribute  to 
the  good  man's  memory:  "My  faithful  friend  for 
forty  years,  who  ever  heard  him  speak  an  idle  word? 
when  was  guile  found  in  his  mouth?  A  man  so  uni- 
formly good,  I  have  not  known  in  Europe  or  Amer- 
ica." He  turned  nov^^  to  the  west.  The  route  he 
took  this  time  was  up  the  Valley  of  Virginia,  through 
Salem  and  Wytheville,  to  the  widow  KusselPs,  at 
Saltville,  where  he  found  the  dear  old  saint  as  happy 
and  cheerful  as  ever.  The  route  he  took  to  the  Hol- 
ston  Conference,  which  met  at  Ebenezer,  on  the  Nol- 
achucky,  was  a  rough  one,  and  he  was  not  well ;  but 
he  reached  the  place  where  the  Conference  was  to 
be  held  in  good  time. 

The  work  of  these  noble  pioneers  was  still  the 
hardest  on  the  continent.  He  found  the  poor  preach- 
ers ragged,  so  he  parted  with  his  watch,  his  coat  and 
shirt.  There  were  not  far  from  two  thousand  people 
present  on  Sunday,  and  he  says:  "If  good  were  done, 
w^hich  I  trust  and  hope,  it  is  some  compensatioa  for 
my  sufferings.  Thirteen  hundred  miles  in  heat  and 
sickness  on  the  road,  and  in  the  house  restless  Tiours, 
the  noise  of  barking  dogs,  impatient  children  and 
people  trotting  about,  and  opening  and  shutting 
doors  at  all  hours." 

He  was  lost  on  his  way  through  the  mountains  of 
North  Carolina,  and  had  to  spend  a  night  in  an  old 
schoolhouse.  He  had  no  fire,  and  no  bed  save  a  bare 
bench.  Moses  Lawrence,  who  traveled  with  him, 
had  a  bear  skin  on  the  floor. 


Francis  As  bury,  237 

In  descending  tlie  mountains  into  Rutherford 
county,  North  Carolina,  ''one  of  the  descents,"  he 
says,  ''is  like  the  roof  of  a  house  for  nearly  a  mile.  I 
rode,  I  walked,  I  sweat,  I  trembled;  my  old  knees 
failed.  Here  are  gullies  and  rocks  and  precipices." 
He  attended  a  camp  meeting  in  Rutherford,  then 
passed  on  through  Lincoln  to  South  Carolina,  and 
rested  a  week  at  his  old  home  at  Rembert  Hall.  He 
had  long  since  ceased  to  antagonize  slaveholding,  as 
much  as  he  disliked  it,  and  realizing  the  fact  that  it 
might  be  an  evil  for  which  the  proposed  remedy  of 
immediate  emancipation  was  no  cure,  he  contented 
himself  with  preaching  the  gospel  to  master  and 
slave.  The  idea  that  Dr.  Coke  had  so  pressed — the 
sinfulness  of  slaveholding  under  all  circumstances — 
he  never  entertained;  and  as  he  grew  older,  and  re- 
alized more  and  more  the  difficulties  in  the  way  of 
emancipation,  he  was  still  less  disposed  to  speak  pos- 
itively as  to  what  should  be  done.  Gough,  Rembert, 
Grant,  Tait,  and  many  others  of  his  most  vnlued 
friends,  were  large  slave  owners.  In  their  homes  he 
rested,  and  in  their  piety  he  had  perfect  confidence, 
but  he  never  became  reconciled  to  slavery,  and  had  It 
been  in  his  power  he  would  have  ended  it  speedily. 

On  Sunday,  November  4,  he  was  in  Charleston 
once  more.  Here  he  remained  over  a  week,  and  then 
when  to  Augusta.  The  good  old  bishop  was  a  little 
worried  with  one  of  the  young  preachers.  He  was 
not  exactly  pleased  when  any  one  differed  with  him, 
but  when  that  one  was  a  young  man  he  had  to  bo 
looked  after.  He  says:  "Hugh  Porter  had  written 
to  this  town  about  a  station;  and  added  to  the  mis- 
chief he  had  former! v  done.     And  behold,  here  is  a 


238  Francis  As  bury. 

bell  over  the  gallery !  and  cracked  too ;  may  it  break. 
It  is  the  first  I  ever  saw  in  a  house  of  ours  in  America. 
I  hope  it  will  be  the  last." 

He  made  his  usual  tour  through  Georgia,  calling 
on  his  old  friends  Thomas  Grant  and  Ralph  Banks, 
and  thence  to  Judge  Charles  Tait's.  He  ''did  not 
present  himself,"  he  said,  "in  the  character  of  a  gen- 
tleman, but  as  a  Christian,  and  a  Christian  minister. 
I  won't  visit  the  President  of  the  United  States  in 
any  other  character.  As  to  Presbyterian  ministers, 
and  all  ministers  of  the  gospel,  I  will  treat  them  with 
great  respect,  and  ask  no  favors  of  them.  To  hum- 
ble ourselves  before  those  who  think  themselves  so 
much  above  the  Methodist  preachers  by  worldly  hon- 
ors, by  learning,  and  especially  by  salary,  will  do 
them  no  good."  The  man  who  was  the  welcome 
guest  of  Ridgley,  Van  Cortlandt,  Bassett,  Living- 
ston, and  Gough,  and  the  friend  of  Otterbein  and 
Jarratt,  need  scarcely  to  have  feared  the  charge  of 
toadyism  because  he  visited  a  Georgia  judge,  and 
treated  respectfully  Messrs.  Cummings  and  Doak; 
but  he  was  a  little  sensitive  to  the  lowly  estimate  in 
which  his  people  were  held,  as  he  thought,  by  the 
Presbyterians.  His  letters  told  Lim  that  the  camp 
meetings  in  Maryland  and  Delaw^are  were  having 
amazing  results.  Five  hundred  and  twenty-eight 
persons  converted  at  one  in  Maryland  and  hundreds 
in  Delaware.  "But  what  a  rumpus  was  raised! 
Grand  juries  in  Virginia  and  Delav»^are  have  prose- 
cuted the  noisy  preachers.  Lawyers  and  doctors 
are  in  arms.  The  lives,  blood,  and  livers  of  the  poor 
Methodists  are  threatened.  Poor,  crazy  sinners,  see 
ye  not  that  the  Lord  is  with  us?" 


Francis  As  bury.  239 

The  Conference  in  Georgia  met  in  the  village  of 
Sparta,  and  Asbury's  favorite  scheme  of  a  called 
General  Conference  went  through  without  serious 
objection,  only  two  opposing. 

The  close  of  this  j^ear  found  him  in  the  heart  of 
Georgia.  He  seems  to  have  been  in  firmer  health 
than  at  any  other  period  of  his  life  in  America.  He 
was  the  sole  bishop,  and  at  no  time  has  the  episco- 
pacy of  the  American  Church  had  so  precarious  a 
tenure.  Coke  was  in  Europe,  Whatcoat  was  dead, 
and  there  was  no  General  Conference  for  a  year 
ahead.  Upon  his  life  depended  more  perhaps  than 
he  himself  knew.  He  was,  howeAer,  sufficient  for 
the  work  demanded,  and  as  soon  as  the  Conference 
closed  he  made  ready  for  his  northward  flitting. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

1807. 

Asbury  Alone — Journey  Northward — Western  New  York — Vis- 
its Ohio,  and  Goes  Through  Kentucky  to  Georgia — Views  on 
Education. 

WHATCOAT  was  dead,  Coke  was  in  Europo, 
Asbury  was  alone,  and  the  first  day  of  Jan- 
uary, 1807,  found  him  on  the  road  from  Augusta  mov- 
ing toward  Rembert  Hall.  The  weather  w^as  very 
cold  and  the  exposure  very  great,  but  he  made  the 
journey  in  a  few  days,  and  found  shelter^at  his  old 
friend's  house,  where  he  took  time  to  answer  his 
letters.  The  Virginia  Conference  was  to  meet  early 
in  February,  in  New  Berne,  North  Carolina,  and  he 
pressed  on  to  meet  it.  He  had  now  the  whole  work 
to  visit,  and  he  took  the  easiest  and  quickest  route — 
his  oft-traveled  way  along  the  tide-water  counties 
of  North  Carolina  and  Virginia — to  Norfolk,  where 
he  turned  westward.  He  sa3^s  little  of  the  Virginia 
Conference,  and  makes  no  mention  of  the  fact  that 
it  defeated  his  plans  for  a  called  Conference. 

After  its  adjournment,  through  tbe  cold  March 
winds,  by  Petersburg  and  Fredericksburg,  he  pushed 
on  to  Baltimore,  wiiere  he  met  the  Conference.  It 
began  its  session  on  Monday,  and  remained  in  ses- 
sion till  Saturday  evening.  As  soon  as  it  was  over 
he  visited  his  friends  at  Perry  Hall,  and  then  made 
his  usual  visitation  to  the  eastern  shore,  going  as  far 
down  ns  Accomac,  and  thence  through  Delaware  to 
(240) 


Francis  As  bury,  241 

Philadelphia,  where  he  held  the  Philadelphia  Con- 
ference. 

The  New  York  Conference  met  at  Coeyman's  Pat- 
ent, near  Albany,  beginning  on  Saturday  and  clos- 
ing in  seven  days,  and  then  Asbury  crossed  into  Ver- 
mont. He  entered  the  state  in  Rutland  county  and 
struck  the  Green  Mountains,  and,  though  it  was  the 
14th  of  May,  snow  w^as  in  the  mountains  still,  and  the 
roads  across  the  mountains  were  fearful.  "We  were 
obliged,"  he  says,  "to  lead  the  horses  as  they  dragged 
the  carriage  up  the  heights,  over  rocks,  logs,  and 
caving  in  of  the  earth;  when  we  arrived  at  the  Nar- 
rows w^e  found  that  the  bank  had  given  way  and 
slidden  dow^n.  I  proposed  to  work  the  carriage 
along  the  road  by  hand  while  Daniel  Hitt  led  the 
horses.  He  preferred  my  leading  them,  so  on  we 
went;  but  I  was  weak  and  not  attentive  enough, 
perhaps,  and  the  mare  ran  me  on  a  rock.  Up  went 
tlie  wheel  hanging  balanced  over  a  precipice  forty 
feet,  rocks,  trees,  and  the  river  beneath  us.  I  felt 
lame  by  the  mare's  treading  on  my  foot;  we  un 
hitched  the  beast,  and  righted  the  carriage  after  un- 
loading the  baggage,  and  so  we  got  over  the  danger 
and  the  difficulty;  but  never  in  my  life  have  I  been  in 
such  apparent  danger." 

It  was  his  custom,  whenever  he  stopped,  to  have 
prayer,  whether  in  taverns  or  private  houses,  among 
saints  or  sinners,  friends  or  strangers,  and  to  speal-: 
to  everyone  about  his  soul.  The  travelers  went 
across  Vermont  to  New  Hampshire,  into  the  Dis- 
trict of  Maine,  through  Berwick,  Kennebeck,  Saco, 
and  Scarboro  to  Portland,  and  then  back  into  New 
Hampshire.  On  June  1  he  was  in  Boston,  where  the 
16 


242  Francis  Asbury, 

Conference  was  to  assemble.  The  Conference  held 
an  agreeable  session,  and  he  started  west. 

He  entered  New  York  on  the  15th  of  June,  "faint, 
sick,  and  lame."  The  old  rheumatic  trouble  in  his 
feet  had  so  lamed  him  that  he  had  to  walk  on  crutch- 
es, but  despite  his  lameness  he  now  decided  on  a  visit 
to  the  newly-settled  country  in  the  western  part  of 
New  York,  among  the  lakes.  Methodism  had  made 
quite  a  conquest  there,  and  was  growing  rapidl.y. 
The  camp  meeting  had  been  introduced,  and  had 
come  to  stay  for  a  long  time,  and  to  have  great  in- 
fluence on  its  future.  The  country  was  wild,  and 
there  was  trouble  with  drunken  men  on  the  camp 
grounds,  which  he  notes. 

He  now  came  through  the  mountains  of  eastern 
Pennsylvania,  following  along  the  course  of  the  Sus- 
quehanna. On  his  way  south  he  passed  through 
Nazareth  and  Bethlehem,  where  nearly  a  century  be- 
fore the  Moravians  had  made  their  settlement.  He 
was  as  little  pleased  with  the  Moravians  as  he  had 
been  with  the  Congregationalists.  He  could  not  but 
note,  however,  their  good  arrangement,  their  ele- 
gant buildings,  and  their  delightful  surroundings, 
and  he  was  of  the  opinion  that  Bethlehem  and  Naz- 
areth were  good  places  for  the  men  of  the  world 
who  did  not  want  their  children  spoiled  by  religion. 
"They  could  send  them  here  with  safety." 

Across  the  Lehigh  road,  on  down  through  Lan- 
caster, he  came  to  York,  where  for  some  days  he  re- 
mained, writing  up  his  correspondence  and  prepar- 
ing for  his  western  tour.  He  had  ridden  twenty-five 
hundred  miles  since  he  left  Baltimore. 

He  had  rheumatism  in  both  feet,  and  now  his  old 


Francis  As  bury,  243 

throat  trouble  returned;  but  he  did  not  pause  on  his 
journey  to  Ohio,  where  the  first  Conference  ever  held 
in  the  state  was  to  convene  at  Chiliicothe,  on  the 
14th  of  September.  He  reached  the  seat  of  the  Con- 
ference while  there  was  a  camp  meeting,  and  pre- 
sided. He  had  made  this  long,  hard  journey  in  his 
jersey  wagon,  but  as  he  now  wished  to  visit  the  fron- 
tier settlements  on  the  Miami,  he  sold  his  wagon  and 
resolved  to  make  the  visitation  on  horseback.  He 
was  in  poor  health  for  such  an  attempt,  but  he  never 
allowed  anything  to  thwart  him  in  what  he  thought 
was  his  duty;  so  he  pushed  forward,  visited  his  old 
friends  in  Ohio,  and  crossed  the  river  into  Kentucky. 
There  w^as  little  of  note  in  the  weary  journey  which 
he  made  through  Kentucky,  Tennessee,  and  Georgia. 

He  was  very  happy  in  his  experience,  and  preached 
as  often  as  he  could,  pressing  upon  the  people  ev- 
erywhere the  necessity  for,  and  the  possibility  of, 
perfect  love.  He  says  of  Georgia:  "Oh,  what  a  ne- 
cessity to  urge  the  doctrine  of  sanctification !  a  doc- 
trine almost  forgcttcm  here."  He  entered  South 
Carolina  and  visited  Rembert  Hall,  and  on  January 
1  opened  the  South  Carolina  Conference  in  Charles- 
ton.   He  had  made  the  circuit  of  the  continent  again. 

This  is  a  somewhat  brief  and  uninteresting  story 
of  a  tour  which  cost  him  great  labor,  and  which  he 
made  in  great  pain,  and  it  is  substantially  the  story 
so  often  told  in  his  life.  There  was  generally  some- 
thing new  in  his  travels,  for  nearly  every  year  he  vis- 
ited some  new  field;  but  the  necessity  for  reaching 
certain  places  at  certain  times  led  him  often  over  the 
same  routes  of  travel,  and  at  that  time  the  i^athways 
across  the  mountains  were  so  few  that  each  year 


2M  Francis  As  bury, 

he  traveled  the  same  roadj  and  his  journal,  upon 
which  one  must  depend  largel}-  for  authentic  ac- 
counts, is  rather  a  dry  detail  of  similar  accounts  very 
hastily  made,  and  often  very  unsatisfactory.  He 
gives  nothing  but  a  very  short  statement  of  the 
places  he  reached  and  how  he  reached  them,  and 
says  little  at  any  time  of  those  who  were  with  him, 
and  of  the  incidents  of  travel.  We  could,  with  the 
assistance  of  other  books,  fill  in  the  vacant  places  by 
historic  details;  but  a  life  of  Asbury  thus  written 
would  be  a  history  of  early  Methodism,  and  not  a 
simple  biography  of  the  primitive  bishop. 

The  work  which  he  had  so  largely  laid  out  was 
wonderfully  successful.  He  was  a  man  of  remarka- 
ble common  sense.  He  knew  what  ought  to  be  done, 
and  generally  who  was  the  best  man  to  do  it.  He 
never  hesitated  to  do  any  work  himself,  and  allowed 
no  hardships  to  discourage  him,  and  no  danger  to 
daunt  him.  He  had  explored  the  whole  territory, 
he  knew  the  conditions,  and  his  plans  were  always 
wisely  conceived.  The  corps  of  assistant  bishops 
whom  he  had  chosen  were  men  admirably  selected; 
and  when  he  was  unable  to  direct  the  campaign  per- 
sonally, he  had  a  lieutenant  on  whom  he  could  fully 
rely.  It  has  been  charged  against  him  that  he  was 
not  concerned  enough  about  schools,  colleges,  an  ed- 
ucated ministry,  and  a  comfortable  maintenance  of 
these  in  the  work.  This  may  have  been  to  some  ex- 
tent true,  but  the  immense  issues  at  stake,  the  de- 
mand for  the  most  earnest  evangelistic  work,  in  his 
mind,  outranked  everything  else.  The  camp  meet- 
ing had  come.  He  saw  the  opportunity.  The  field 
preaching  of  John  Wesley  and  George  Whitefield, 


Francis  As  bury.  245 

which  made  Methodism  in  England  and  Ireland,  was 
now  fairly  begun  in  America,  and  by  a  strange  prov- 
idence begun  in  the  ranks  of  another  denomination. 
The  experiment  born  of  necessity  had  resulted  in 
an  institution.  There  was  a  class  of  camp-meeting 
preachers  who  were  admirably  fitted  to  conduct 
these  meetings,  and  they  were  used  in  every  section. 
The  excitements  and  the  extravagances  which  were 
in  these  meetings  were  not  offensive  to  him.  The 
deadness,  the  formality,  the  lifeless  prayer  meeting 
were  far  more  obnoxious  to  him  than  the  noise  and 
confusion  of  the  battlefield.  As  he  went  on  his  way, 
he  received  tidings  by  every  mail  of  the  glorious  vic- 
tories that  were  being  won  in  these  fields. 

He  was  a  bright,  happy  old  man — older,  in  fact, 
than  his  years.  He  saw  the  fruits  of  his  untiring- 
toil  on  every  side,  and  while  he  realized  the  slender 
thread  on  v/hich  the  superintendency  hung,  and  the 
nerious  nature  of  the  situation,  he  did  not  allow  it  to 
distress  him.  He  had  done  all  he  could  to  have  mat- 
ters bettered,  and  had  failed;  and  now  he  patiently 
vvent  on,  not  knowing  whence  relief  would  come. 

One  thing  was  plain,  the  American  preachers  were 
not  willing  to  be  ruled  by  Dr.  Coke  as  they  had  been 
by  Asbury,  and  were  not  willing  to  have  any  man  in 
Asbury's  place  whom  they  had  not  chosen  and  upon 
whom  they  could  not  rely.  Who  that  one  w  as,  per- 
haps none  knew.  The  General  Conference  was  to 
convene  in  May,  1808,  and  there  were  certain  changes 
that  would  be  made  then ;  and  at  last,  after  twenty- 
four  years  of  trying  labor,  there  was  a  prospect  of 
some  relief  to  the  weary  old  bishop.  That  relief 
came  when  McKendree  was  chosen. 


CHAPTEE  XXXV. 

ISOS. 

South  Carolina  Conference — George  Dougherty — Northward 
Journey  Through  New  Virginia — Baltimore — General  Con- 
ference— Death  of  Hairy  Gough — Conference  Legislation — 
Election  of  McKendree — Tour  of  the  Bishops — Meets  William 
Capers — Capers's  Recollections. 

THE  beginning  of  1808  found  the  South  Carolina 
Conference  in  session  in  Camden,  only  twenty 
miles  away  from  Rembert  Hall.  In  the  twenty  years 
during  which  this  Conference  had  been  in  existence 
it  had  grown  w^onderfully,  and  had  already  produced 
some  of  those  remarkable  men  of  whom  it  has  had  so 
many.  One  of  the  most  wonderful  men  it  ever  had 
produced  had  now  passed  away,  and  Asbury  paid  a 
tribute  to  him  in  his  sermon.  This  was  George 
Dougherty,  an  Irishman  by  descent.  He  had 
worked  with  great  success  in  South  Carolina  and 
Georgia.  He  was  a  man  of  unusual  cultivation  for 
those  days,  a  fine  Greek  and  Hebrew  scholar,  who 
had  studied  the  advanced  books  on  mental  and  moral 
science,  and  w^as  a  fearless  and  eloquent  preacher. 
To  him  the  Church  owes  the  important  law^  limiting 
the  pastoral  term.  Up  to  the  time  that  he  suggested 
the  law  to  limit  it  to  two  years,  the  bishops  had  been 
at  their  own  will  as  to  how  long  a  preacher  should 
remain  in  a  charge.  He  had  been  the  means  of  es- 
tablishing a  rule  in  the  South  Carolina  Conference 
by  which  if  a  preacher  left  his  circuit  in  times  of 
(246) 


Francis  As  bury.  247 

pestilence  lie  should  travel  no  more  amongst  us. 
His  courage  in  rebuking  sin  in  Charleston  had  so 
angered  the  mob  that  they  had  dragged  him  to  the 
town  pump,  and  would  have  murdered  him  but  for 
the  intrepidity  of  a  good  woman,  who  stuffed  her 
apron  in  the  mouth  of  the  pump.  He  had  died  a 
comparatively  young  man,  and  now  Asbury  preached 
his  funeral  sermon. 

This  South  Conference,  as  Asbury  called  it,  had  a 
supply  of  preachers  brought  up  within  it.  He  was 
no  longer  compelled  to  go  to  Virginia  for  his  preach- 
ers, but  promising  boys,  as  he  called  them,  were  com- 
ing forward  to  take  the  charges,  much  to  his  grati- 
fication. James  Russell,  Lovick  Pierce,  Eeddick 
Pierce,  William  Arnold,  W.  M.  Kennedy,  John  Col- 
linsworth,  Samuel  Dunwody,  men  who  were  to  act 
the  yeomen's  part  in  the  future,  were  now  receiving 
api)ointments  from  his  hand.  He  still  was  as  indif- 
ferent to  any  rules  of  order  as  he  had  been  when  the 
Conferences  were  composed  of  less  than  a  dozen 
men,  but  his  will  was  regarded  as  law  by  those  who 
were  under  his  charge.  He  gave  all  his  thought  to 
arranging  the  work  and  advancing  it.  He  kept  ev- 
er}^ part  of  it  under  his  eye,  and  was  on  the  w^tch 
continually  for  some  devoted  man  to  go  to  a  new 
field.  Everything  in  these  frontier  Conferences  was 
formative,  but  he  saw  to  it  that  no  large  section  of 
the  country  was  left  unsupplied.  The  Conferences 
were  not  then  business  meetings,  and  every  day  at 
noon  at  this  Conference  there  was  preaching.  As 
soon  as  the  Conference  was  over  he  returned  to  Rem- 
bert's,  and  after  a  week's  rest  he  began  his  journey 
northward. 


248  Francis  Asbury, 

Through  the  forest,  over  bad  roads,  on  a  lame 
horse,  cold,  hungry,  he  journeyed.  This,  he  says, 
was  one  side;  but  then  he  had  prayer,  patience, peace, 
and  love,  and  he  says  he  had  the  odds  greatly  in  his 
favor.  He  was  sixty-three  years  old,  and  all  the 
burden  of  superintendency  rested  on  his  shoulders, 
but  he  preached  as  regularly  as  the  humblest  circuit 
preacher  in  the  connection;  and  riding  his  lame  mare 
and  ijreaching  every  day,  he  says  his  soul  was  very 
happy  in  the  Lord.  He  passed  through  the  western 
part  of  Xorth  Carolina,  skirting  the  foothills,  and 
thence  into  Henry  county — New  Virginia,  as  it  was 
called.  This  was  a  comparatively  new  country,  and 
quite  a  rugged  one.  The  frequent  changes  of  weath- 
er and  the  wretched  road  made  traveling  disagree- 
able, but  it  was  much  worse  in  the  cabins,  crowded 
with  men,  women,  and  children;  no  quiet  place 
for  reading,  writing,  or  meditation,  and  the  woods 
too  cold  for  solitude.  "We  are  weather-bound.  I 
employ  my  time  in  writing,  reading,  praying,  and 
planning."  He  was  moving  tov/ard  Lynchburg, 
which  he  reached  in  good  time,  and  on  Sunday 
preached  to  about  six  hundred  hearers,  when  he  was 
paid  Jor  all  his  toil.  The  Conference  session  began 
on  Tuesday.  The  Virginia  Conference  was  a  very 
large, strong  Conference, extending  from  New  Berne, 
North  Carolina,  to  the  Peaks  of  Otter.  It  had  a 
strong  corps  of  preachers,  and  they  were  led  by  Jesse 
Lee.  They  had  more  than  once  thwarted  Asbury  in 
his  aims,  and  had  not  only  defeated  his  plan  for  a 
council,  but  his  plan  for  a  called  General  Conference 
which  should  be  a  delegated  bodv;  but  now  the  Con- 
ference consented  to  do  what  he  wished — ^to  accept 


Francis  As  bury.  249 

the  New  York  proposition  for  a  delegated  General 
Conference. 

Leaving  Lynchburg,  and  traveling  along  through 
the  Virginia  midland  counties,  he  made  his  way  to 
Loudoun,  where  at  the  widow  Roszel's  he  made  a 
short  stay.  He  preached  at  Leesburg,  and  arrived 
in  Alexandria  on  the  Sunday  before  the  Conference 
began.  The  Conference  convened  in  session  for  a 
week,  and  after  traveling  without  fire,  food,  or  wa- 
ter, on  Wednesday  afternoon  he  reached  the  city. 
He  was  not  able  to  tarry  long  anywhere.  He  was 
anxious  to  complete  his  round,  so  that  the  Confer- 
ences should  act  before  the  General  Conference  in 
May,  and  he  hurried  northward,  where  he  held  the 
Philadelphia,  then  the  New  York,  and  then  the  New 
England  Conference;  and  after  having  made  his 
round,  he  reached  Perry  Hall  again  on  May  2. 

It  was  a  sad  coming.  His  dearest  friend,  after 
Judge  White  and  James  Rembert,  Harry  Gough,  was 
dying.  We  have  often  had  occasion  to  refer  to  him. 
He  was  perhaps  the  wealthiest  Methodist  in  Amer- 
ica. He  belonged  to  the  English  nobility,  and  had 
inherited  a  large  estate  from  England,  married  into 
the  Ridgley  family,  and  had  begun  life  a  rollicking 
gentleman  of  those  wild  days.  His  wife,  as  we  have 
seen,  had  been  converted  through  Asbury's  influ- 
ence; he  had  been  converted  also,  and  was  for  a  time 
very  zealous.  Then  there  was  a  time  of  backsliding 
and  an  alienation  from  Asbury,  but  his  spiritual  fa- 
ther had  been  the  means  of  his  recovery  again,  and 
for  many  years  his  country  seat,  Perry  Hall,  had  been 
Asbury's  home.  It  was  an  elegant  old  colonial  man- 
sion with  a  chapel  in  which  his  many  slaves  assem- 


250  Francis  As  bury. 

bled  for  family  worship,  and  where  the  circuit 
preachers  had  service.  Gough  had  been  very  dear 
to  Asbury  and  a  true  friend  to  the  Church,  and  the 
General  Conference  paid  him  no  higher  honors  than 
he  deserved  when  many  of  the  members  walked  in 
procession  to  his  grave.  Asbury  had  long  hoped  for 
a  General  Conference  such  as  would  give  the  west 
and  far  south  a  fair  place  in  the  councils  of  the 
Church,  and  the  delegated  Conference,  he  hoped, 
would  do  that.  In  the  histories  of  Methodism  there 
is  a  full  account  of  this  Conference.  With  it  Asbury 
individually  had  little  to  do.  The  idea  which  As- 
bury had  of  discipline  led  him  to  interfere  whenever 
he  thought  there  was  any  danger  of  weakening  au- 
thority. His  favorite  expression  was  that  men  who 
did  not  know  how  to  obey  would  not  knov/  how  to 
rule,  but  during  this  Conference  he  seems  to  have 
taken  even  a  less  part  than  in  those  which  went  be- 
fore. This  was  the  last  general  convention  of  Meth- 
odist preachers;  the  last  General  Conference  of  un- 
restricted powers.  From  this  time  forth  the  dele- 
gated Conference  had  to  act  in  a  limited  sphere,  and 
the  bishops  were  less  under  its  control.  The  Con- 
ference elected  William  McKendree  an  associate 
bishop.  It  is  somewhat  amusing  that  Bishop  As- 
bury should  refer  to  this  election  as  he  does  in  his 
journal.  "Dear  brother  McKendree/'  he  says,  "was 
elected  assistant  bishop."  As  McKendree  was  not 
elected  assistant  but  associate  bishop,  with  coordi- 
nate powers,  the  manner  in  which  the  old  man  re- 
garded it  was  characteristic.  He  had  been  from 
1784  to  1808,  for  twenty-four  years,  unrestrained 
and  with  undivided  powers,  and  he  had  little  idea  of 


Francis  As  bury,  251 

being  now  superseded  or  hampered.  McKendree 
was  in  the  prime  of  his  mature  manhood,  strong- 
minded,  strong-bodied,  strong-willed;  a  man  of  won- 
derful self-poise,  of  the  most  heroic  mold,  and  w  ithal 
of  the  deepest  piety.  He  had  been  in  fact  if  not  in 
law  a  bishop  for  eight  years,  presiding  over  a  dio- 
cese of  immense  area,  and  one  w^hich  demanded  the 
highest  qualities  in  its  superintendent,  and  he  had 
met  all  its  demands.  If  Asbury  could  have  chosen 
from  the  whole  body  the  man  he  would  have  pre- 
ferred as  his  associate,  it  is  likely  that  McKendree 
would  have  been  that  man.  And  now  for  the  first 
time  in  the  fourth  of  a  century  Asbury  felt  that  he 
could  take  a  little  rest ;  but  he  did  not  do  so.  There 
was  a  respite  from  imperious  calls,  but  he  spent  this 
month  going  on  visiting  and  preaching  among  old 
friends  and  old  scenes. 

When  Asbury  first  came  to  Maryland  in  1773,  he 
v/as  a  guest  at  Dr.  Warfield's,  where  the  elaborate 
headdresses  of  the  ladies  distressed  the  strict  young 
bachelor.  The  doctor  was  living  stili,  and  he  came 
quite  a  distance  to  meet  his  old  acquaintance.  The 
good  bishop  speaks  as  if  the  dear  old  doctor  was  still 
out  of  the  fold,  for  he  says:  "I  should  not  regret 
coming  so  many  miles  if  I  could  be  the  means  of 
converting  this  dear  man  to  God."  He  saw  his  old 
friends  the  Willises,  went  to  the  parts  of  western 
Maryland  that  he  had  visited  years  before,  and  with 
his  associate,  Henry  Boehm.  went  into  southwestern 
Pennsylvania.  Some  of  his  old  friends  rode  sixty 
miles  to  see  him.  Again  the  Western  Conference 
w^as  to  meet  in  Tennessee  in  October,  and  he  had 
planned  a  long  itinerary  to  cover  the  land  till  the 


252  F BANC  IS  As  BURY, 

time  came.  He  was  in  Wheeling  August  1,  but  the 
hot  days  and  long  hills  almost  made  him  cr^^  out. 
He  reached  Ohio,  and  went  to  a  camp  ground,  and 
then  to  the  home  of  General  Worthington,  who  had 
married  the  daughter  of  his  old  friend  Governor  Tif- 
fin. Mary  Tiffin,  the  governor's  wife,  had  been  very 
dear  to  the  bishop,  and  speaking  of  her  loss,  he  says : 
^'The  world  little  knows  how  dear  to  me  are  my  many 
friends,  and  how  deex^ly  I  feel  this  loss." 

He  was  now  riding  through  Ohio.  It  was  August. 
He  w^as  feeble  and  worn,  the  heat  was  great,  and  the 
flies  wretchedly  annojing,  but  his  heart  was  glad- 
dened by  the  promise  of  great  results  from  the  camp 
meetings. 

There  was  o\\\y  one  district  in  Ohio,  and  the  coun- 
try was  only  now  being  settled.  The  discomforts 
of  the  journey  would  have  been  great  to  a  well  man, 
but  to  him  they  must  have  been  distressing.  At 
brother  Gatchell's  he  saw  an  unfeeling  man  about 
to  take  away  a  poor  widow's  horse,  and  it  so  trou- 
bled him  that  brother  Gatchell,  to  relieve  him,  paid 
the  debt  and  gave  the  animal  to  the  widow  for  her 
lifetime. 

During  this  trip  he  went  into  Indiana,  where  there 
were  already  twenty  thousand  people,  and  crossing 
the  Ohio  was  again  in  Kentucky,  and  then  made  his 
w^ay  through  Kentucky — passing  from  its  extreme 
northern  county  through  the  entire  state  into  Ten- 
nessee. On  his  way  he  met  Benedict  Swope,  his  old 
German  friend  of  thirty  years  before.  McKendree 
and  Thompson  came  miles  to  meet  him,  and  together 
they  made  the  journey  to  the  camp  meeting  at  which 
the  Western  Conference  was  held.     It  was  the  first 


Francis  As  bury,  253 

Conference  McKendree  had  attended  since  he  was 
made  bishop.  Asburj,  following  his  old  habit,  says : 
''I  began  Conference,  and  preached  twice  on  Sab- 
bath day  and  again  on  Tuesday."  As  soon  as  this 
Conference,  which  was  largely  cared  for  by  his  old 
friend  Green  Hill,  had  concluded  its  session  he  start- 
ed for  the  South  Carolina  Conference,  which  was  to 
meet  in  the  heart  of  middle  Georgia,  December  2G. 
The  Conference  which  ended  its  sessiog.  was  held  in 
Williamson  county,  Tennessee,  a  little  south  of  Nash 
ville.  There  was  no  direct  route  to  Georgia,  and 
the  two  bishops,  with  their  companions,  started  into 
the  wilderness.  They  had  to  journey  over  the  moun- 
tains almost  all  the  w^ay.  They  crossed  the  Cumber- 
land range  and  then  the  Alleghanies.  Asbury  was 
on  a  stumbling  horse  that  would  not  only  stumble 
but  run  away.  They  had  rain  and  high  rivers,  he  had 
several  severe  ailments,  the  houses  were  crowded, 
the  roads  were  rough,  and  the  men  w^re  bad,  but 
despite  it  all,  he  says,  he  kept  on  his  way.  They 
crossed  the  mountains  into  North  Carolina,  and  then 
along  the  foothills  in  South  Carolina,  and  then  to 
Camden,  where  he  lodged  with  the  good  old  Sammy 
Matthews. 

They  had  a  camp  meeting  at  Rembert's,  late  as  the 
season  was.  The  weather  was  cold,  and  the  super- 
intendents had  a  hut  with  a  chimney  to  it.  At  this 
camp  meeting  Asbury  met  his  old  friend  Major  Wil- 
liam Capers  and  his  gifted  son,  whose  after  history 
is  so  well  known.  Major  Capers  was  converted  years 
before  under  the  ministry  of  Henry  Willis,  and  under 
the  influence  of  William  Hammett  had  been  alien- 
ated from  Asbury,  and  gradually  backslid.     He  had 


254  Francis  Asbury, 

now  been  reclaimed,  and  his  3  oung  son  William,  a  law 
student,  had  been  converted.  They  were  at  camp 
meeting,  and  Major  Capers  and  Asbury  met  for  the 
first  time  in  eighteen  years.  Asbury  had  not  seen 
William  since  he  v\'as  an  infant.  He  took  him  ten- 
derly in  his  arms,  as  he  did  his  aged  father.  A  year 
after  this,  when  the  young  lawj^er  had  become  a  cir- 
cuit preacher,  as  Asbury  and  Boehm  passed  through 
the  young  man's  circuit,  the  incident  occurred  which, 
told  in  the  inimitable  way  of  Bishop  Capers,  casts 
such  a  mellow  light  on  the  lovely  character  of  the  old 
bishop.     Bishop  Capers  says: 

I  met  him  when  a  heavy  snow  had  just  fallen,  and  the 
northwest  wind  blowing  hard  made  it  extremely  cold.  The 
snow  had  not  been  expected,  and  our  host  was  out  of  wood, 
so  that  what  we  had  to  use  had  been  picked  up  from  under 
the  snow  and  was  damp  and  incombustible.  Our  bedroom 
was  a  loft  with  a  fireplace  to  it  and  a  plenty  of  wood,  but  how 
to  make  the  wood  burn  was  the  question.  I  had  been  at 
work  blowing  and  blowing  long  before  bedtime  till  to  my 
mortification  the  aged  bishop  came  up,  and  there  was  still 
no  fire  to  warm  him.  "O,  Billy  Sugar,"  said  he  as  he  ap- 
proached the  fireplace,  "never  mind,  give  it  up,  we  will  get 
warm  in  bed;"  and  then  stepping  to  his  bed  as  if  to  ascertain 
the  certainty  of  it,  and  lifting  the  bedclothes,  he  continued: 
"Yes,  give  it  up,  Sugar;  blankets  a  plenty."  So  I  gave  it  up, 
thinking  that  the  play  of  my  pretty  strong  lungs  might  dis- 
turb his  devotions,  for  he  was  instantly  on  his  knees. 

But  then  how  might  I  be  sure  of  waking  early  enough  to 
kindle  a  fire  at  four  o'clock?  My  usual  hour  had  been  six, 
and  to  meet  the  difficulty  I  concluded  to  wrap  myself  in  my 
overcoat  and  lie  on  the  bed  without  using  the  bedclothes. 
In  this  predicament  I  was  not  likely  to  oversleep  myself  on 
so  cold  a  night.  But  there  might  be  danger  of  my  not  know- 
ing what  hour  it  was  when  I  happened  to  wake.  Nap  after 
nap  was  dreamed  away,  as  I  lay  shivering  in  the  cold,  till  I 


Francis  As  dub  r.  255 

thought  it  must  be  four  o'clock;  and  then,  creeping  to  the  fire 
and  applying  the  breath  of  my  live  bellows  as  I  held  the 
watch  to  the  reluctant  coals,  to  see  the  hour,  I  had  just  made 
it  out  when  the  soft  accents  saluted  me:  "Go  to  bed,  Sugar, 
It  is  hardly  three  o'clock  yet." 

Another  night  he  says: 

It  was  past  four  o^clock,  and  the  bishop  was  up,  but  Billy 
Sugar  lay  fast  asleep.  So  he  whispered  to  brother  Boehm 
not  to  disturb  him,  and  the  fire  was  made.  They  were 
dressed,  had  had  their  devotions,  and  were  at  their  books 
before  I  was  awake.  This  seemed  shockingly  out  of  order; 
and  my  confusion  was  complete,  as,  v/aking  and  springing 
out  of  bed,  I  saw  them  sitting  before  a  blazing  fire.  I  could 
scarcely  say  good-morning,  and  the  bishop,  as  if  he  might 
have  been  offended  at  my  neglect,  affected  not  to  hear  it. 
Boehm,  who  knew  him  better,  smiled  pleasantly,  and  I  whis- 
pered in  his  ear:  "Why  didn't  you  wake  me?"  The  bishop 
seemed  to  hear  this,  and  closing  his  book,  and  turning  to  me 
with  a  look  of  downright  mischief,  had  an  anecdote  for  me. 
"I  was  traveling,"  said  he,  "quite  lately,  and  came  to  a  cir- 
cuit where  we  had  one  of  our  good  boys.  Oh,  he  was  so 
good,  and  the  weather  was  as  cold  as  it  was  this  night  at 
brother  Hancock's,  and,  as  I  war.  Bishop  Asbury,  he  got  up 
in  the  cold  at  three  o'clock  to  make  a  fire  for  me.  And  what 
do  you  think?  He  slept  last  night  till  six."  'And  he  tickled 
at  it  as  if  he  might  have  been  a  boy  himself.  And  this  was 
Bishop  Asbury,  whom  I  have  heard  called  austere;  a  man. 
confessedly,  who  never  shed  tears,  and  who  seldom  laughed, 
but  whose  sympathies  were  nevertheless  as  soft  as  a  sancti- 
fied spirit  might  possess. 

After  the  camp  meeting  was  over  the  travelers 
went  on  to  Charleston,  and  from  thence  to  the  South 
Carolina  Conference,  which  met  at  a  camp  ground  in 
Green  county,  in  Georgia.  This  was  the  first  and 
only  Annual  Conference  in  this  section  held  in  con~ 
nection  with  a  camp  meeting  or  near  a  country 
church.    At  this  Conference  William  Capers  was  ad- 


256  Francis  Asburt. 

mitted  into  the  traveling  connection.  Asbury  intro- 
duced McKendree,  tlie  new  bishop,  to  the  Confer- 
ence, and  one  by  one  they  came  forward  and  took 
him  by  the  hand. 

At  the  General  Conference  of  1800  a  resolution 
was  passed  allowing  an  elder  to  travel  constantly 
with  Bishop  Asbury.  He  had  had  Hull,  Lee,  and 
What  coat  to  accompany  him  as  companions  before 
the  resolution  was  adopted,  and  after  that  Crawford, 
Snethen,  and  Daniel  Hitt ;  and  now  he  selected  Hen- 
ry Boehm,  the  son  of  his  old  friend  IMartin  Boehm, 
the  German  pietist.  Henry  Boehm  vv^as  now  a 
steady  young  German,  thirty-three  years  old,  who 
had  been  a  Methodist  preacher  for  eight  years.  He 
was  Asbury's  traveling  companion  for  six  years,  and 
assisted  him  greatly  in  his  arduous  work.  Boehm 
could  preach  in  German  and  English,  and  as  there 
were  scattered  through  the  land  a  large  number  of 
native  Germans  who  did  not  speak  English,  Boehm's 
services  were  of  great  value.  Boehm  lived  to  be  over 
a  hundred  3  ears  old,  and  during  his  hundredth  year 
a  volume  of  his  Reminiscences  was  issued.  His 
journal  runs  parallel  to  that  of  Asbury,  and  he  says 
little  in  it  w^hich  Asbury  does  not  say  in  his  record. 
During  the  year  he  traveled  with  the  bishop  from 
the  first  of  May.  He  was  to  meet  him  at  Perry  Hall 
on  a  certain  day,  but  he  stopped  at  a  camp  meeting 
and  was  detained  a  day  beyond  his  time.  When  he 
reached  Perry  Hall,  Asbury  was  gone.  By  hard  rid- 
ing he  caught  up  with  him,  and  accompanied  him  on 
this  long  tour  which  left  them  at  the  end  of  the  year 
in  the  heart  of  middle  Georgia, 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

1809. 

McKendree's  New  Departure — Northward  Tour — Conference  at 
Harrisonburg — Journey  to  New  England — Western  New 
York  —  Western  Conference  in  Cincinnati  —  Journey  to 
Charleston. 

SINCE  Asbury  had  taken  the  control  of  the  Meth- 
odist societies  in  Delaware  in  1780  until  now  he 
had  been  the  virtual  dictator  in  the  connection,  at 
least  so  far  as  directing  the  work  was  concerned. 
Although  Coke  v/as  legally  his  colleague,  practically 
lie  had  no  more  to  do  with  the  work  than  if  his  name 
had  not  been  on  the  minutes.  Whatcoat  had  been  a 
legal  bishop,  but  he  had  yielded  the  entire  control 
to  Asbury,  and  for  all  these  years  no  will  save  As- 
bury's  own  had  been  considered  in  making  appoint- 
ments. In  making  laws  and  regulations,  and  in 
executing  discipline,  the  Conferences  had  never  been 
at  all  interfered  with  by  him,  but  in  arranging  the 
work  and  appointing  the  men  to  do  it  he  had  con- 
sulted no  one.  He  appointed  presiding  elders,  and 
when  he  was  out  of  the  way  they  acted  as  vicar-gen- 
erals, and  ruled  things  as  arbitrarily  as  he  did,  but 
when  he  was  on  the  ground,  they  were  not  his  cab- 
inet to  counsel,  but  his  lieutenants  to  execute.  He 
felt  the  weight  upon  him,  and  longed  for  relief.  He 
had  once  determined  to  resign,  but  had  been  per- 
suaded not  to  do  so.  The  time  had  now  come  when 
there  v/as  some  x)ossibility  of  securing  relief.  Mc- 
Kendree,  who  had  been  elected  in  May,  1808,  had 
17  '  (257) 


258  Francis  Asbubt. 

been  Asburj's  trusted  helper  in  the  superintend- 
ency  for  over  ten  years.  He  had  been  presiding 
over  districts  in  the  east  which  covered  half  a  state, 
and  in  the  west  over  a  district  which  swept  from  the 
Alleghany  Mountains  to  the  Mississippi  River.  He 
had  been  in  sole  charge  of  this  work  for  the  years 
that  Asbury  was  an  invalid,  and  in  all  the  excite- 
ment and  confusion  resulting  from  the  great  awak- 
ening in  the  west  out  of  which  came  such  deplorable 
results  to  other  Churches,  McKendree,  by  his  strong 
nerve  and  wonderful  common  sense,  protected  the 
Methodist  charges  from  greater  harm.  He  had  been 
unknown  in  the  east,  but  when  he  preached  his  first 
sermon  in  Baltimore  he  was  at  once  chosen  as  a  bish- 
op. He  had  not  acce^jted  the  ofiSce  expecting  anoth- 
er to  do  the  work,  and  Asbury  soon  found  he  had  a 
colleague,  and  not  an  assistant.  When  McKendree 
took  the  presidency  of  the  Conference  he  made  some 
striking  changes  in  the  manner  of  conducting  bus- 
iness. It  had  been  conducted  by  Asbury  in  an  in- 
formal and  somewhat  disorderly  way.  After  Mc- 
Kendree had  read  his  address  in  the  General  Con- 
ference of  1812,  the  old  man  rose  and  said,  turning 
to  McKendree:  "I  have  something  to  say  to  you  be- 
fore all  the  brethren.  You  have  done  to-day  what  I 
never  did.  I  want  to  know  why.''  McKendree  calm- 
ly said:  "You  are  our  father,  and  do  not  need  these 
rules.  I  am  a  son,  and  do."  "So,  so!"  said  the  old 
bishop  with  a  smile,  as  he  sat  down. 

It  would  have  been  greatly  to  the  relief  of  As- 
bury's  brethren,  as  well  as  to  his  own,  if  he  had  con- 
sented to  take  a  season  of  rest,  and  if  he  had  left 
to  his  younger  and  stronger  companions  the  harder 


Francis  Asdury.  259 

part  of  the  work  at  least,  but  this  he  could  uot  do. 
He  had  been  so  unceasingly  on  the  wing  for  nearly 
fifty  years  that  rest  was  not  relief,  and  although 
it  was  not  really  necessary  for  him  to  travel,  he 
thought  it  was,  and  did  not  abate  his  labors  at  all. 
The  beginning  of  the  new  year  of  1809  found  him 
with  McKeudree,  in  a  thirty-dollar  chaise,  riding 
through  middle  Georgia  on  his  way  to  Tarborough, 
North  Carolina,  where  the  Virginia  Conference  was 
to  meet.  He  and  his  companion  reached  it  in  good 
time  and  presided.  This  Conference  included  a 
large  part  of  North  Carolina  and  all  of  Virginia 
east  of  the  Blue  Ridge.  There  was  one  thing  about 
it  which  pleased  Asbury  greatly:  there  were  but 
three  married  men  in  it.  He  thought  the  opposition 
of  these  high-toned  southerners  to  the  marriage  of 
their  daughters  to  Methodist  preachers  was,  after 
all,  a  blessing,  in  that  it  kept  the  preachers  single. 
Asbury  was  not  opposed  to  the  marriage  of  laymen, 
nor  w^as  he  in  favor  of  a  coerced  celibacy  among  the 
preachers,  but  he  found  it  so  much  easier  to  use 
single  men  in  the  hard  work  demanded,  and  so  much 
easier  to  support  them,  that  he  looked  upon  the  mar- 
riage of  the  preacher  as  a  calamity,  expecting  that 
soon  after  marriage  there  would  come  location. 

I  have  already  intimated  that  iVsbury's  view  with 
reference  to  the  immediate  abolition  of  slavery  had 
undergone  a  modification.  He  had  ceased  to  write 
in  favor  of  emancipation  in  his  journal,  or  to  urge  it 
in  the  Conferences  and  froni  the  pulpit.  His  hatred 
of  slavery  as  a  system  had  not  changed,  his  love  for 
the  negro  race  was  not  at  all  diminished,  but  he  was 
satisfied  that  immediate  emancipation  was  neither 


260  Francis  As  bury, 

practicable  nor  judicious.  He  says  in  his  journal, 
February,  1809:  ''Would  not  the  amelioration  of  the 
condition  and  treatment  of  slaves  have  produced 
more  practical  good  than  any  attempt  at  emancipa- 
tion? The  state  of  society  unhappily  does  not  admit 
this;  besides,  the  blacks  are  thus  deprived  of  the 
means  of  instruction." 

The  Conference  ended,  the  bishops  rode  by  Suffolk 
and  Portsmouth,  and  on  through  central  Virginia 
across  the  mountains  into  the  valley,  w^here,  at  Har- 
risonburg, the  Baltimore  Conference  was  to  have  its 
session.  A  large  body  of  German  pietists,  Mennon- 
ites,  Dunkards,  and  Lutherans  had  settled  in  this 
rich  Valley  of  Virginia,  as  had  quite  a  number  of 
families  from  eastern  Virginia.  Among  the  eastern 
Virginians  was  a  young  physician  named  Harrison. 
He  was  the  father  of  the  distinguished  Gessner  Har- 
rison, so  famous  as  the  Professor  of  Greek  at  the 
University  of  Virginia,  and  the  grandfather  of  the 
distinguished  authoress,  Mrs.  Mary  Stuart  Smith, 
wife  of  Professor  F.  H.  Smith,  of  the  University  of 
Virginia.  As  soon  as  the  Conference  had  conclud- 
ed its  session  the  bishop  went  northward,  and  pass- 
ing through  the  Valley  of  Virginia  entered  Maryland 
by  Frederick  City,  and  on  to  P.altimore.  He  spent 
only  a  few  days  in  the  city  of  his  early  love.  Al- 
though it  was  March,  a  camp  meeting  was  held  near 
Perry  Hall,  and  the  heart  of  the  bishop  was  sad  as  he 
passed  near  the  home  of  his  friend  Henry  Gough. 
The  Conference  that  met  in  Philadelphia,  as  well  as 
that  which  met  in  New  York,  gave  him  trouble ;  and 
he  said  that  while  he  was  not  conscious  of  wrong  tern 
pers,  he  was  not  willing  to  hold  a  Conference  again 


Francis  As  bury.  261 

in  Philadelphia,  and  that  he  should  hold  his  peace 
about  some  things  which  occurred  in  ^^ew  York. 

He  had  received  much  li:indness  from  the  Quakers 
in  his  early  days  in  Maryland,  ISew  Jersey,  and  Del- 
aware, but  he  felt  it  his  duty  now  to  rebuke  them, 
much  to  their  annoyance,  and  to  say  that  he  feared 
the  reproach  of  Christ  had  been  wiped  away  from 
them.  The  reader  has  of  course  seen  that  the  good 
old  bishop  had  a  high  standard  of  religious  excel- 
lence, and  perhaps  in  his  opinion  none  but  Metho- 
dists reached  that,  and  very  few  of  them.  He  w^ent 
on  his  way  to  New  England.  He  had  not  been  very 
well  pleased  with  matters  on  his  first  visit,  and  on 
each  succeeding  one  he  had  seen  things  in  no  better 
light,  and  it  was  not  very  likely  that  as  he  grew  old- 
er and  more  exacting  he  would  find  less  to  censure. 
As  they  came  into  Ts^ewport  he  was  horrified  when 
he  saw  a  grand  house,  with  a  high  steeple  and  pews, 
built  by  a  lottery.  But  when  he  came  to  Bristol 
"the  Methodists  here  had  a  house  with  pews  and  a 
preacher  who  had  not  half  enough  to  do.  Poor  work! 
I  have  as  much  as  I  can  bear,"  he  said,  "in  body  and 
mind.  I  see  what  has  been  doing  for  nine  years  past 
to  make  Presbyterian  Methodists."  If  the  piety  of 
the  New  Englanders  had  not  improved,  their  hospi- 
tality had,  for  the  bishop  called  at  but  one  tavern. 

When  he  reached  Lynn,  and  had  an  interview 
with  the  official  brethren,  they  gave  him  a  doleful 
account  of  the  condition  of  things:  "the  preachers 
did  not  preach  evancrelically,  did  not  visit  the  fam- 
ilies, and  neglected  the  classes."  The  old  bishop 
listened  respectfully  enouc^h,  but  said:  "One  story 
was  good  till  another  was  told."     The  New  England 


262  Francis  Asbumy, 

Conference  was  to  meet  in  Maine  on  the  15th  of 
June,  and  at  New  Gloucester  it  was  held,  and  then 
the  travelers  returned  through  New  Hampshire  into 
Vermont,  and  across  into  upper  New  York,  and  then 
into  western  New  York,  where  they  preached  in 
barns  and  slept  on  the  floor,  and  now^  and  then 
preached  in  the  courthouses.  The  Congregational- 
ists,  whom  Asburj  always  calls  Presbyterians,  w^ere 
laboring  to  preempt  the  country  by  building  churches 
and  establishing  congregations.  Asbury  says  some- 
what complacently:  "They  will  flourish  awhile,  but 
a  despised  people  will  possess  the  land.  Oh,  the 
terrors  of  a  camp  meeting  to  these  men  of  pay  and 
show!"  The  country  w^as  quite  new,  and  accommo- 
dations were  very  poor.  He  says:  "In  the  evening 
we  mounted  our  horses  in  the  rain  and  came  six 
miles,  dripping  wet,  to  Asa  Cummings's  cabin, 
twelve  feet  square.  On  Tuesday  morning  we  were 
well  soaked  before  we  reached  David  Eddy's.  We 
had  an  awful  time  on  Thursday  in  the  woods, 
amongst  rocks  and  trees,  and  behold  the  backwater 
had  covered  the  causeway.  One  finds  it  hard  to  re- 
alize that  less  than  a  hundred  years  ago,  in  so  old 
a  state  as  New  York,  there  was  such  a  new  and  un- 
settled state  of  things.  In  upper  Pennsylvania  mat- 
ters were  worse.  "Such  roads,  such  rains,  and  such 
lodgings!"  he  says.  "Why  should  I  wash  to  stay  in 
this  land?  I  have  no  possessions  or  babes  to  bind 
me  to  the  soil.  What  are  called  the  comforts  of  life 
I  rarely  enjoy.  The  wish  to  live  an  hour  such  a  life 
would  be  strange  to  so  suffering,  so  toil-worn  a 
wretch.  But  God  is  with  me,  and  souls  are  my  re- 
ward.   I  may  jet  rejoice;  yea,  I  will  rejoice." 


Francis  As  bury,  263 

The  sensitive  old  man  generally,  indeed  almost 
universally,  received  great  kindness,  but  sometimes 
it  was  not  liis  good  portion.  "I  called  at  a  certain 
house,"  he  says.  "It  would  not  do.  I  was  com- 
pelled to  turn  out  again  to  the  pelting  of  the  wind 
and  rain.  Though  old  I  have  eyes.  The  hand  of 
God  will  come  ujion  them.  As  for  the  young  lady, 
shame  and  contempt  will  fall  on  her.  Mark  the 
event."  Asbury  nearly  always  preached  on  Sunday, 
and  rarely  traveled  on  that  day;  but  sometimes  he 
did,  and  on  this  journey  he  says:  "Sunday  23. — We 
must  needs  ride  to-day;  our  route  lay  through  Wal- 
nut Bottom,  but  we  missed  our  way  and  the  preach- 
ing of  George  Lane.  A  twenty -four  mile  ride 
brought  us  to  breakfast  at  Otis's.  Brother  Boehm 
upset  the  sulky  and  broke  the  shaft.  Night  closed 
upon  us  at  Osterout's  tavern."  They  made  their 
way  through  the  mountains,  and  although  the  roads 
were  so  rough,  he  says  he  was  simple  enough  to  put 
plasters  on  his  knees,  and  they  drew  huge  blisters, 
so  he  neither  stood  to  preach  nor  kneeled  to  pray. 
Two  days  afterwards  he  preached  in  the  courthouse, 
and  while  he  was  preaching  the  presiding  elder  put 
his  feet  on  the  banister  of  his  pulpit;  "it  was  like 
thorns  in  his  flesh  till  they  were  taken  down."  He 
had  supplied  himself  with  tracts  in  German  and 
English,  which  he  gave  away.  Cold  and  chilly  as  he 
was,  he  went  to  camp  meeting  and  preached;  and 
the  two  bishops  made  their  way  to  Pittsburg,  where 
the  "Kev.  Mr.  Steel  offered,  unsolicited,  in  the  name 
of  the  Presbyterian  eldership,  their  elegant  house 
for  my  Sunday  exercises." 

The  bishops  w^ere  moving  toward  Ohio  to  meet 


264  Francis  Asbuby. 

tlie  Western  Conference,  which  was  to  meet  in  Cin- 
cinnati on  the  30th  of  September;  and  passing 
through  Wheeling,  in  which  Colonel  Zane  had  given 
ground  for  a  chapel,  he  preached  in  the  courthouse, 
and  went  into  Ohio.  He  said  he  was  weak  and  weary, 
but  had  great  consolation  in  God  and  a  witness  of 
holiness  in  his  soul.  Why  he  said  it  then  I  cannot 
conjecture,  but  he  adds  to  this:  "We  have  our  diffi- 
culties with  married  preachers,  their  wives  and  chil- 
dren, but  while  God  is  with  us  these  difficulties  musi 
be  borne."  The  camp  meeting  was  now  spreading 
all  over  the  west.  It  was  a  very  primitive  affair 
A  grove  was  chosen  near  a  stream,  logs  were  cut 
down  for  seats,  a  simple  stand  was  made  for  the 
preacher,  and  the  people  literallj^  camped  out  for 
days.  These  meetings  Asbury  so  heartily  indorsed 
that  he  wished  there  might  be  twenty  in  a  week  in 
the  various  parts  of  the  work.  His  old  friend  Gov- 
ernor Tiffin  was  now  plain  Dr.  Tiffin,  and  he  called  to 
see  him.  While  the  talk  of  others  was  of  politics, 
and  of  land,  he  had  little  taste  for  these  topics. 
''O  Lord,  give  me  souls,"  he  says,  "and  keep  me 
holy."  McKendree  had  gone  in  one  direction,  and 
he  was  going  in  another.  Ohio  was  being  peopled 
with  marvelous  rapidity,  and  there  had  been  but  lit- 
tle time  for  comforts  to  be  provided.  Asbury  says : 
"I  slept  about  iive  hours  last  night.  I  had  excessive 
labor,  a  crowd  of  company  and  hogs,  dogs,  and  other 
annoyances  to  weary  me."  At  last  the  bishops  met 
at  Cincinnati,  which  Asbury  calls  "fair  Cincinnati." 
where  they  hnd  the  Western  Conference,  and  after 
its  close  he  went  into  Kentucky. 

The  Conference  was  to  meet  in  South  Carolina  in 


Francis  As  bury,  2G5 

two  months'  time,  but  Asbury  and  McKendree  were 
in  Kentucky,  and  tliere  was  a  ride  of  several  hun- 
dred miles  to  Charleston  where  the  Conference  was 
to  meet.  Eight  times,  he  says,  within  nine  years 
had  he  crossed  these  Alps,  and  was  under  the  neces- 
sity of  putting  up  at  the  wretched  inns  where  there 
were  drinking  and  carousing.  He  made  the  journey 
safely,  and  at  last  on  the  10th  of  December  was 
again  in  Charleston.  Here  for  two  wrecks  he  re- 
mained  and  recruitt-d,  and  the  first  day  of  1810  found 
the  untiring  man  again  on  the  highway. 

Henry  Boehm,  who  was  Asbury's  traveling  com* 
panion,  kept  a  journal,  from  which,  fifty  3^ears  after 
Asbury's  death,  he  published  extracts,  which  add 
something  to  the  information  given  by  the  bishop 
himself.  The  journey  through  the  mountains  of 
eastern  Pennsylvania,  when  Boehm  was  thrown 
from  the  sulky  and  badly  hurt,  though  not  disabled, 
was  specially  memorable.  The  roads  were  awful, 
and  the  rain  poured  in  torrents.  The  mountain 
streams  were  dangerously  high,  and  they  were  in  a 
wilderness.  On  the  banks  of  the  Elk,  where  it  was 
too  high  to  cross,  they  met  an  eccentric  Englishman 
who  w^as  living  alone  in  the  wilds,  four  miles  from 
any  other  person,  and  in  a  homely  cabin.  He  re- 
ceived the  strangers  and  kept  them  with  him  for 
several  days.  Boehm  said  as  he  held  the  purse  and 
knew  that  they  had  but  two  dollars  between  them, 
th3  hospitality  of  the  hermit  was  for  more  than 
one  reason  grateful  to  them.  The  sturdy  young 
German  was  required  to  put  out  his  full  strength  to 
keep  up  with  the  untiring  old  man,  who  never  knew 
the  meaning  of  the  word  rest. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

1810. 

Asbury  and  McKendree  on  Their  Second  Tour — The  Virginia 
Conference — Mary  Withey's  Funeral — New  York  Cloufereiice 
— New  England — Jesse  Lee's  History — Lee  and  Asbury — 
Genesee  Conference — Western  Conference— Senator  Taylor. 

THE  Virginia  Conference  was  to  meet  early  in 
February  in  Petersburg,  and  to  meet  it  the 
bishops  were  compelled  to  push  forward  very  rapid- 
ly. The  winter  was  very  severe,  and  they  had  rain 
and  snow  in  abundance.  Pressing  on  through  up- 
per South  Carolina,  they  passed  through  Fayette- 
ville  in  North  Carolina,  on  to  Wilmington,  where 
Asbury  was  gratified  to  find  things  greatly  bettered, 
and  on  through  New  Berne  and  Edenton  into  east- 
ern Virginia.  Rising  at  four,  they  were  often  on 
the  road  at  five,  and  rode  fifty  miles  a  day.  Poor 
Henry  Boehm,  the  youngest  of  the  company,  with 
an  awful  cough  and  fevers,  suffered  more  than  his 
older  associates.  The  ride  was  made,  however,  in 
time  to  meet  the  Conference  on  the  9th  of  February, 
and  on  the  25th  he  was  in  Baltimore.  After  the 
Conference  he  made  his  usual  visit  to  the  eastern 
shore.  It  was  McKendree's  first  visit,  but  here  As- 
bury had  labored  for  over  thirty  years,  and  those 
who  in  infancy  were  dandled  on  his  knee  received 
him  into  their  homes.  The  Philadelphia  Confer- 
ence met  at  Easton,  in  Maryland,  and  after  its  ad- 
journm.ent  he  went  northward.  At  Chester  he 
^266) 


FliANCIS  As  BURY,  267 

preached  the  funeral  of  a  good  woman  whom  he 
often  mentions.  Mary  Withey,  "who  kept  the  best 
inn  on  the  continent,  and  always  received  the  preach- 
ers/' entertained  the  young  English  missionary  in 
1772.  Under  his  prayer  in  family  worship  she  was 
convicted,  and  afterwards  happily  converted.  She 
formed  a  society  in  Chester,  and  for  all  these  years 
her  hause  had  been  his  home.  Asbury  said  "she 
had  Martha's  anxieties  and  Mary's  humility."  Thus 
his  old  friends  were  leaving  him:  Eliza  Dalham, 
Sarah  Gough,  Mary  Tiffin,  Mary  Rembert — all  sis- 
ters to  the  tender-hearted,  homeless  exile,  who  de- 
serve to  be  mentioned  in  the  story  of  Methodism. 
He  was  now  passing  over  ground  he  had  often  trav- 
eled, and  preaching  in  churches  in  which  he  had 
ministered  for  twoscore  years. 

The  New  York  Conference  met  at  Pittsfield,  Mas- 
sachusetts, and  the  New  England  Conference  at 
Winchester,  New  Hampshire.  After  the  Conference 
closed  he  came  intQ  Massachusetts  again.  He  says: 
"Our  preachers  get  wives  and  a  home  and  run  to 
their  dears  almost  every  night.  How  can  they  by 
personal  observation  know  the  state  of  the  families 
it  is  a  part  of  their  duty  to  watch  over  for  good?" 
In  Rhode  Island  he  says:  "Oh,  the  death — the  for- 
mality in  religion!  Surely  the  zealous,  noisy  Meth- 
odists cannot  but  do  good  here."  At  Bristol  where 
they  had  the  church  with  pews  and  a  steeple,  he 
spoke  with  power  to  their  consciences,  "but  their 
favorite  preacher  was  removed,  and  saints  and  sin- 
ners were  displeased."  "We  are  on  our  lees  here — 
no  ridinff  of  circuits,  local  preaching  and  stations 
filled  in  the  towns," 


268  Francis  as  bury. 

Jesse  Lee  had  written  his  History ;  the  General  Con 
ference  refused  to  publish  it,  and  Lee  had  published 
it  on  his  own  account.  Asburj  says  of  it:  ''I  have 
seen  Jesse  Lee's  History  for  the  first  time;  it  is  bet- 
ter than  I  expected.  He  has  not  always  presented 
me  under  the  most  favorable  aspects.  We  are  all 
liable  to  mistakes,  and  I  am  unmoved  by  his.  I  cor- 
rect him  in  one  fact :  my  compelled  seclusion  at  the 
beginning  of  the  war  was  in  nowise  a  season  of  in- 
activity. On  the  contrary,  except  about  tvv  o  months 
of  retirement,  it  was  the  most  actiA^e,  most  useful, 
and  most  afflictive  part  of  my  life.  If  I  spent  a  few 
dumb  Sabbaths,  if  I  did  not,  for  a  short  time,  steal 
after  dark,  or  through  the  gloom  of  the  woods,  as 
was  my  wont,  from  house  to  house,  to  enforce  the 
truth,  I  (an  only  child)  had  left  father  and  mother 
to  proclaim,  I  shall  not  be  blamed,  I  hope,  when  it  is 
known  that  my  patron,  Thomas  White,  was  taken 
into  custody  by  the  light-horse  patrol ;  if  such  things 
happened  to  him,  what  might  I  expect,  a  fugitive 
and  an  Englishman?"  Those  who  have  read  the 
journal  of  these  years  can  see  the  justice  of  this  de- 
fense. The  fact  was  that  the  burly  Virginian  and 
the  delicate,  sensitive  Englishman  were  not  likely 
to  understand  each  other.  They  were  equally  good 
men,  and  each  filled  well  the  place  in  which  a  good 
Providence  had  placed  him,  but  they  w^ere  as  little 
likely  to  understand  each  other  as  Luther  was  to 
understand  Calvin.  They  could  each  work  and 
work  well,  but  they  could  not  work  together.  Those 
w^ho  have  studied  Mr.  Wesley's  life  have  seen  how 
Impossible  it  was  for  him  to  see  eye  to  eye  with  any 
of  his  equals.     No  one  had  a  gentler  and  less  selfish 


Fba2sCis  As  bury,  269 

spirit  than  Asburj,  but  it  was  witli  liim  ''Ciiesar  or 
no  one."  Tlie  two  men  wlio  did  the  most  for  Meth- 
odism in  the  east  were  Lee  and  Asbuiy,  but  the  two 
were  as  diiferent  as  Paul  and  Peter,  and  agreed  no 
better. 

The  bishops  had,  by  their  volition,  set  off  a  part 
of  western  Isew  York  and  Pennsylvania  into  a  Con- 
ference, to  be  called  the  Genesee,  and  its  first  ses- 
sion was  to  be  held  at  Lyons,  in  western  New  York; 
and  after  the  tour  in  New  England,  they  made  their 
way  toward  the  village  in  which  it  was  to  be  held. 
After  a  hard  and  rapid  ride  they  reached  Lyons  and 
held  the  Conference,  July  20,  ISIO.  It  included  a 
part  of  New  Y^ork,  Pennsylvania,  and  Canada.  As- 
bury  spent  the  rest  of  the  summer  visiting  camp 
meetings  and  preaching  in  the  villages  and  country 
places  of  western  Pennsylvania.  He  was  not  well, 
and  he  said:  "Lord,  prepare  me  by  thy  grace  for  the 
patient  endurance  of  hunger,  heat,  labor,  the  clown- 
ishness  of  ignorant  piety,  the  impudence  of  the  im- 
pious, unreasonable  preachers,  and  more  unreason- 
able heretics  and  heresy." 

The  T\"estern  Conference  was  to  meet  the  1st  of 
November,  and  the  two  bishops  made  a  visitation, 
such  as  they.had  made  the  year  before,  to  the  rapid- 
ly growing  churches  of  Ohio,  and  into  Kentucky. 
Bishop  Asbury  at  this  time  was,  perhaps,  better  ac- 
quainted with  all  parts  of  the  United  States  than 
any  one  man  in  its  boundary.  He  was  known  and 
honored  everywhere.  The  people  whom  he  met,  as 
he  trudged  along  over  the  hills  and  mountains  of 
western  Pennsylvania,  knew  him  by  name.  He  was 
no  longer  what  he  had  once  been  in  the  pulpit.     His 


270  Fbaxcis  As  bury, 

sermons  were  discounected,  but  earnest — often  pa- 
tlietic — talks.  He  was  sometimes  severe,  and,  lie  said, 
lie  feared  too  strong  in  his  censures;  but  all  knew 
the  warm,  tender  heart  which  lay  back  of  it  all.  He 
was  sometimes  petulant  and  childish  in  his  inter- 
course with  the  ijreachers,  but  all  who  knew  him, 
ahd  bj  this  time  nearly  all  did  know  him,  knew  how 
warmly  he  loved  those  he  chided.  His  travels  were 
much  over  the  same  routes,  and  his  journals  are 
monotonous  accounts  of  the  same  hardships.  He 
ought  not  at  his  age  to  have  attempted  what  he  did 
attempt,  but  on  he  went  untiring  and  undaunted. 
The  journey  through  Kentucky  was  without  adven- 
ture. He  passed  through  Frankfort,  where  as  yet 
the  Methodists  had  no  house  of  worship.  He 
I)reached  in  Xicholasville  and  Winchester,  and  here 
he  saw  his  old  friend  Francis  Po;si;hress,  whose  mind 
had  given  way,  and  who  was  being  cared  for  by  his 
sister,  Mrs.  Lyons.  He  says:  "If  thou  be'st  he,  oh 
how  fallen!'' 

With  much  difficulty  they  made  their  way  to 
Columbia,  where  the  South  Carolina  Conference 
had  its  session.  Senator  Taylor,  of  the  United 
States  Congress,  was  a  Methodist,  and  he  lent  the 
Conference  his  home  for  its  session.  As  soon  as  the 
Conference  adjourned  Asbury  started  on  his  annual 
visit  to  Charlesto!-".  and  in  a  few  days  he  v/as  in  his 
old  quarters  in  the  Bethel  parsonage. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

1811. 

Asbnry  in  His  Old  Age — Sweetness  of  His  Character — Criticism 
on  Adam  Clarke — Visits  Canada— Eetums  to  the  States — 
Goes  to  Ohio  and  Southward  to  Georgia. 

ASBURY  was  now  sixty-six  years  old,  and  had 
been  forty  years  in  America.  He  was  not 
really  an  old  man,  but  hard  labor,  great  exposure, 
and  needless  austerity  had  taxed  a  naturally  frail 
constitution  too  heavily:  and  while  he  was  not  old 
in  years,  he  was  in  fact.  He  ought  to  have  rested, 
but  he  could  not.  He  had  been  traveling  constantly 
for  forty-six  years,  and  he  could  not  be  still.  So  he 
left  South  Carolina  immediately  after  the  Confer- 
ence closed,  and  went  to  the  Virginia  Conference  at 
Raleigh.  Xorth  Carolina,  and  to  the  Baltimore  Con- 
ference at  Pipe  Creek.  He  saw  the  widow  of  his  old 
friend  Henry  Willis,  and  says:  "Henry  Willis!  ah, 
when  shall  I  loot  on  his  like  again?"  He  trembled 
for  these  Baltimore  preachers,  who  had  such  ease 
and  comfort,  and  wondei^d  how  they  could  retain 
the  spirit  of  religion  amid  such  pleasant  surround- 
ings: and  he  was  much  distressed  over  the  marriage 
of  four  young  preachers,  which  would  take  ^SOO 
from  the  funds. 

It  was  a  pleasing  thing  to  him  now  to  meet  the 
children  of  his  old  parishioners,  and  find  a  shelter 
in  their  homes.  There  was  no  place  so  dear  to  him 
as  Marvland.     The  Howards,  the  Warfields.  the  Hig- 

'271) 


272  Francis  As  bub  r. 

ginses,  the  Owings,  the  Dailams,  the  Goughs,  the 
Kogerses,  and  others,  had  been  his  friends  for  forty 
years. 

The  good  old  man,  always  gentle  and  tender,  had 
become  more  so  in  his  later  years,  and  in  his  anxiety 
to  do  good,  so  far  as  we  can  see,  he  taxed  himself 
needlessly,  and  inflicted  u^jon  himself  such  suffer- 
ings by  his  persistence  in  doing  what  he  believed  to 
be  his  duty  that  reading  his  journal  becomes  i)0si- 
tively  i)ainful;  but  his  religious  comfort  was  now 
continuous.  He  says:  -'Sometimes  I  am  ready  to 
cry  out,  ^Lord,  take  me  home  to  rest;'  courage,  my 
soul!"  '^At  Benjamin  Sherwood's  I  stopped  a  mo- 
ment and  called  the  family  to  prayer."  "Came  to- 
night to  Major  Taylor's.  Monday  my  kind  enter- 
tainer and  family  made  me  a  promise  to  be  hence- 
forth for  God."  "I  feel  great  consolation  and  per- 
fect love."  "I  rode  sixteen  miles  to  see  brother 
Wilson  in  his  affliction."  "Oh,  the  clover  of  Balti- 
more Circuit!  Ease,  ease,  not  for  me — toil,  suffer- 
ing, coarse  food,  hard  lodging,  bugs,  fleas,  and  cer- 
tain etceteras  besides." 

He  went  over  the  same  ground  he  had  traversed 
in  1772,  and  found  a  few  of  his  old  friends  living. 
The  seed  he  had  then  sown  had  brought  forth  abun- 
dantly, and  the  Methodists  were  now  numerous,  and 
Methodist  churches  were  all  along  his  route.  The 
old  homes  which  received  him  then  were  here  still, 
and  he  sought  them  out.  The  Dallam  and  Bennett 
and  Garrettson  homes  were  still  here,  and,  while  the 
old  people  were  gone,  the  children  welcomed  the 
patriarchal  bishop  whom  they  had  loved  from  their 
infancy. 


Francis  As  bury.  273 

It  was  liis  rule  lo  speak  to  all  who  came  into  his 
presence  on  their  soul's  interest,  which  sometimes, 
he  sajs,  he  was  not  ready  to  do.  "I  covenanted 
with  General  Burleson  to  pray  for  him  every  day.'' 
"A  poor  afflicted  widow  called  on  me;  for  what  do 
I  live  but  to  do  good  and  teach,  others  so  to  do  by 
precept  and  example?" 

New  Jersey-  had  not  been  fruitful  ground  for  the 
Methodists,  and  he  says:  -'I  am  unknown  in  Jersey, 
and  ever  shall  be,  I  presume;  after  forty  years'  labor 
we  have  not  ten  thousand  in  membership."  ''I  read 
Adam  Clarke,  and  am  amused  as  well  as  instructed. 
He  indirectly  unchristianizes  all  old  bachelors.  Woe 
is  me !  It  was  not  good  for  x\dam  to  be  alone  for  bet- 
ter reasons  than  any  Adam  Clarke  has  given." 

''We  came  to  Middleburg  (Vermont);  here  is  col- 
lege craft  and  priestcraft."  The  heat  was  great, 
the  roads  w^ere  w^retched,  and  he  was  suffering  much 
with  his  feet;  but  he  pressed  on  into  Canada,  where 
there  were  quite  a  number  of  Methodists,  and  made 
his  first  and  only  visit  to  that  province.  Along  the 
banks  of  the  St.  Lawrence  and  the  shores  of  Lake 
Ontario  a  considerable  body  of  settlers,  most  of  them 
'Americans,  had  fixed  their  homes ;  and  to  them  mis- 
sionaries from  the  states  had  been  sent,  and  now 
there  were  several  circuits  supplied  with  preachers 
from  the  Genesee  Conference.  Bishop  Asbury  part- 
ed from  McKendree  in  Vermont,  and  with  Bela 
Smith  as  his  guide  and  Boehm  as  a  companion,  he 
struck  out  for  the  new  settlements.  He  crossed 
Lake  Champlain,  and  pleached  in  a  barroom  at 
Plattsburg,  and  then  began  his  journey  to  the  settle- 
ments bv  entering  the  wilderness.  He  came  out  of 
18 


274  Fbancis  As  bury. 

it  at  the  village  of  the  Indians  where  the  St.  Regis 
River  enters  the  St.  Lawrence.  The  Indians  put  the 
travelers  across  the  wide  and  rapid  river  bj  lashing 
their  canoes  together  and  putting  the  horses  and 
men  in  them.  Safely  over  the  river,  the  mission- 
aries made  their  w^ay  from  settlement  to  settlement, 
preaching  as  they  went,  until  they  reached  Lake 
Ontario.  Here  they  took  a  scow  as  a  ferryboat  to 
go  across  the  lake  to  Sackett's  Harbor.  It  was  a 
fearful  voyage,  for  a  storm  burst  on  the  rickety  old 
boat;  and  after  being  in  great  peril  of  wreck,  the 
captain  anchored  the  scow^  near  an  island,  where 
Asbury,  lying  on  a  pile  of  hay,  and  covered  w  ith  the 
saddle  blankets,  passed  the  night.  The  next  day 
the  weary  man,  tortured  with  rheumatism,  was  in 
the  wilds  of  western  New  York.  He  was  too  ill  to 
travel,  and  Boehm,  w^ho  tells  of  this  jonrney,  left 
him  and  went  himself  to  fill  an  appointment  forty 
miles  away,  and  then  by  an  all-night  ride  returned 
and  accompanied  him  to  the  Genesee  Conference, 
which  met  in  Oneida.  This  section  of  western  New^ 
York  was  comparatively  new,  and  the  rides  were 
hard  at  the  best,  but  his  feet  were  in  a  wretched 
condition;  and  poor  "Spark,"  his  faithful  beast,  was 
lame.  He  was  forced  to  sell  him;  and  as  the  bish- 
op rode  off  on  his  new  mare,  poor  "Spark"  nickered 
his  "good-by,"  and  it  went  to  his  heart.  "Jane," 
"Fox,"  and  "Spark,"  the  three  beasts  who  bore  him, 
do  much  to  make  one  hope  that  Mr.  Wesley's  theory 
of  the  second  life  of  good  quadrupeds  may  be  true. 
The  eight  Conferences  had  furnished  Urenty-fire  dol- 
lars each,  for  traveling  expenses,  of  which  the  bishop 
had  expended  one  hundred  and  thirty  dollars. 


Francis  As  bury.  275 

He  says  he  was  unspeakably  happy  -in  God,  and 
when  he  reached  father  Boehm's  he  wished  to  rest, 
but  they  would  have  him  away  to  the  camp  meeting; 
and  with  inflamed  feet,  and  a  high  fever,  and  a  wast- 
ing dysentery,  he  went  and  preached.  Good  father 
Boehm  had  some  old  Rhenish  wine  of  his  own  make 
which  refreshed  him ;  and  could  the  weary  old  bishop 
have  rested  long  enough  he  might  have  sooner  re- 
covered, but  he  could  only  rest  a  little  while,  and 
then  he  w^as  on  his  w^ay  again. 

Through  southern  Pennsylvania  he  w^ent  ^again 
into  Ohio.  He  crossed  the  center  of  the  state,  and 
was  among  old  friends,  some  of  whom  he  had  known 
in  Virginia  and  Mar^iand.  He  searched  for  his  old 
friends,  and  among  them  found  John  Death,  whom 
he  had  known  in  the  Monongahela.  He  had  been 
spiritually  dead,  the  bishop  said,  but  his  old  friend 
dug  him  up. 

The  Western  Conference  met  at  Cincinnati,  and  at 
this  Conference  in  1811  James  B.  Finley  was  or-  ■ 
dained  a  deacon.  Mr.  Finley  w^rote  in  an  after  time 
some  very  interesting  reminiscences  of  these  times, 
and  gives  an  incident  of  this  Conference  which  was 
characteristic.  "Bishop  Asbury  said  to  the  preach- 
ers: ^Brethren,  if  any  of  you  shall  have  anything 
peculiar  in  your  circumstances  that  should  be 
known  to  the  superintendent  in  making  your  ap- 
pointment, if  you  will  drop  me  a  note,  I  will,  as  far 
as  will  be  compatible  with  the  great  interests  of 
the  Church,  endeavor  to  accommodate  you.'  I  had 
a  great  desire  to  go  west,  because  I  had  relatives, 
which  called  me  in  that  direction,  and  it  v/ould  be 
more  pleasant  to  be  vith  them;  so  I  sat  down  and 


276  Francis  As  bury. 

addressed  a  polite  note  to  the  bishoj),  requesting  Mm 
to  send  me  west.  My  request  was  not  granted.  I 
was  sent  a  hundred  miles  east.  I  said  to  him:  'If 
that's  the  way  you  answer  prayers,  you  will  get  no 
more  prayers  from  me.'  'Well/  he  said,  'be  a  good 
son,  James,  and  all  things  will  work  together  for 
good/  " 

He  then  came  into  Kentucky,  and  here  there  is  a 
break  in  his  journal,  for  the  next  entry  puts  him  in 
the  center  of  Georgia  at  Littleberry  Bostwick's,  in 
Louisville.  He  w^ent  to  Burke,  Scriven,  Eflfingham, 
and  reached  Savannah,  where  the  new  church  was 
just  begun,  and  back  again  to  Camden,  South  Caro- 
lina, where  the  Conference  was  held,  and  to  Charles- 
ton, where  he  ended  the  year  1811. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

181£. 

Near  the  Close — General  Conference — Presiding  Eldership- 
Benson's  Life  of  Fletcher— Ohio — Nashville. 

THE  Virginia  Conference  was  to  meet  in  Rich- 
mond, February  20,  and  Asbury  made  his  way 
directly  to  it.  It  was  the  first  session  of  a  Methodist 
Conference  in  Richmond.  The  old  parts  of  Virginia 
where  Methodism  had  won  such  triumphs  w^ere  now 
being  largely  drawm  upon  for  emigrants  to  the  south 
and  west,  but  the  newer  parts  of  the  state  were  rap- 
idly filling  up.  He  saj  s  little  of  the  Conference  ses- 
sion, save  that  the  number  of  preachers  stationed 
was  smaller  than  usual.  The  Conference  began  on 
Thursday,  the  20th.  Among  the  preachers  who  at- 
tended the  Conference  was  Dr.  Samuel  K.  Jennings, 
who  was  selected  afterwards  as  Asbury's  biogra- 
pher, and  who,  he  says,  was  much  followed.  Leaving 
Richmond  as  soon  as  Conference  adjourned,  he  rode 
down  the  James  and  visited  again  Williamsburg  and 
Yorktown.  He  found  this  ancient  city  declining  in 
numbers  and  in  w^ealth  because  of  the  decrease  of 
trade  and  the  prevalence  of  strong  drink. 

He  was  on  his  way  to  the  Baltimore  Conference, 
which  was  to  meet  at  Leesburg  on  thQ  20th  of  March. 
Here  in  this  good  old  city  there  was  a  happy  Confer- 
ence, as  there  was  in  Phildelphia.  The  General 
Conference  of  1812,  the  first  delegated  General  Con- 
ference, was  to  meet  in  New  York,  and  on  May  1st 

(277)  ' 


278  Francis  As  bury. 

it  convened.  The  General  Convention  of  1808  had 
restricted  the  powers  of  the  General  Conference, 
and  Asbury,  who  was  very  jealous  of  any  limit  upon 
the  powers  of  the  bishops  to  appoint,  had  hoped  that 
after  the  decisive  action  of  the  General  Conference 
of  1808  the  agitation  about  the  eldership  would 
cease,  but  he  found  himself  greatly  deceived.  His 
old  colleagues,  Lee  and  Snethen,  were  on  the  side  of 
the  progressives,  who  desired  to  make  the  presiding 
elders  elective.  These,  as  Asbury  said,  were  great 
men,  but  they  were  defeated.  While  Asbury  was 
traveling  through  Georgia,  twenty  years  before,  he 
had  met  Colonel  Few,  who  was  a  Marylander  and 
one  of  the  first  senators  from  Georgia.  He  had  re- 
moved to  Xew  York,  and  here  Asbury  met  him  and 
breakfasted  with  him.  The  wife  of  brother  Seney, 
whose  descendant,  George  I.  Seney,  has  made  his 
name  and  memory  so  precious,  had  been  a  leader  in 
the  good  work  of  raising  a  handsome  contribution 
for  the  poor  preachers  of  the  New  England  Confer- 
ence, which  Asbury  carried  with  him.  One  of  his 
striking  characteristics  was  his  attachment  to  old 
friends  and  to  the  homes  in  which  he  had  stayed. 
For  years  together  he  never  changed  his  stopping 
places,  and  what  Perry  Hall  in  Maryland,  and  Lott 
Ballard's  in  North  Carolina,  and  Rembert's  in  South 
Carolina,  and  Grant's  in  Georgia  were,  was  mother 
Sherwood's,  twenty-four  miles  from  New  York.  At 
Albany  the  New  York  Conference  was  to  convene. 
It  met  at  the  same  time  with  the  Synod  of  the  Re- 
formed Dutch  Church.  In  Lynn,  where  the  first 
Methodist  chapel  was  built,  he  was  disturbed  by  the 
proposition  to  place  a  steeple  on  the  new  meeting- 


Francis  As  bury,  279 

house,  and  lie  said  if  it  was  done  it  must  uot  be 
bj  Methodist  order  or  by  Methodist  money.  After 
leaving  Lynn,  they  went  without  adventure  to  west- 
ern New  York,  where,  in  Lyons  again,  the  Genesee 
Conference  was  to  be  held.  He  found  his  old 
friends  scattered  all  over  this  new  country,  and 
reached  Lyons  in  good  time,  where  he  had  a  pleasant 
session  of  the  Conference,  and  then  through  the 
excessive  heat  of  July  he  pressed  over  these  wild 
hills  into  Pennsylvania.  In  those  days  there  was  a 
general  laxity  in  the  matter  of  drinking  alcoholic 
liquors,  and  among  these  bibulous  Germans  drinking 
was  all  but  universal.  Asbury  was  always  an  un- 
compromising foe  of  drink  of  all  kinds.  He  says: 
"The  Geraians  are  decent  in  their  behavior  in  this 
neighborhood,  and  it  would  be  more  so  were  it  not 
for  vile  whisky — this  is  the  prime  curse  of  the  Unit- 
ed States.'' 

On  his  way  southward  he  passed  through  Middle- 
town,  Maryland,  where  he  had  at  last  a  small  chapel, 
and  to  Hagerstowm,  where  he  preached  in  the  new 
church.  He  rode  on  through  Cumberland,  and  vis- 
ited the  camp  ground  near  by.  He  made  it  a  rule  to 
speak  to  all  he  met  on  the  subject  of  their  soul's  in- 
terest, and  his  gray  hairs  and  saintly  aspect  always 
secured  to  him  a  hearing.  While  he  was  on  this 
trip  he  read,  as  he  rested,  Benson's  Life  of  Fletcher, 
and  says:  "Comparing  myself  with  Fletcher,  what 
am  I  in  piety,  wisdom,  labor,  or  usefulness?  God 
be  gracious  unto  me."  The  recluse  of  Madeley  and 
the  working  bishop  of  America  could  not  well  be 
compared ;  but  if  they  w^ere  to  be,  the  American  bish- 
op is  not  the  one  who  would  stand  lowest  in  the 


280  Francis  As  bury. 

popular  verdict.  Tlie  old  man's  heart  was  glad- 
dened by  seeing'  the  immense  crowds  who  flocked 
to  the  camp  grounds  which  he  visited  on  his  way. to 
the  growing  west.  He  passed  through  Ohio,  and 
attended  the  first  session  of  the  Ohio  Conference, 
which  met  in  Chillicothe,  October  1.  His  rest  at 
night  had  been  broken.  A  severe  neuralgia  had 
kept  him  awake,  and  yet  he  preached  three  times 
at  this  Conference.  On  the  last  day  he  says  his 
strength  failed.  "1  want  sleep,  sleep,  sleep."  On 
Wednesday,  exhausted,  he  stole  away  and  slept  for 
three  hours,  and  then  they  called  him  up  to  read  the 
stations. 

The  Tennessee  Conference  was  to  meet  near  Nash- 
ville on  the  1st  of  November,  and  he  must  try  to 
reach  it;  and  though  feverish  and  w^orn  as  he  was, 
he  began  the  journey.  Through  Ohio  they  came  into 
Kentucky,  and  then  through  Kentucky  into  Middle 
Tennessee.  On  this  tour  he  made  his  first  visit  to 
Louisville,  Kentucky,  which  he  says  was  "a  growing 
town,  where  we  had  a  neat  brick  house,  thirty  by 
thirty-eight;"  and  then  directly  to  Nashville,  where 
the  kind  jailer  took  them  in  charge  and  entertained 
them.  There  was  now  in  Nashville  a  new  neat  brick 
house,  thirty  four  feet  square,  with  galleries.  Green 
Hill,  his  old  North  Carolina  friend,  was  living  not 
far  from  Nashville,  and  he  visited  him  and  went  on 
to  the  camp  ground  at  Fountain  Head,  where  the 
Conference  was  held;  and  then  over  rocks,  hills, 
roots,  and  stumps  he  made  his  way  to  East  Tennes- 
see, across  the  Cumberland  mountains;  and  then 
through  North  Carolina  into  South  Carolina:  and 
exposed  to  the  intense  cold  of  December,  he  reached 


Francis  Asb-uhy.  281 

Cliarleston,  where  the  Confereuce  was  to  meet,  De- 
cember 19. 

He  made  the  long  circuit  without  resting  a  week. 
Mile  bj  mile  he  kept  up  with  his  more  vigorous  com- 
panions. He  had  virtually  given  the  bishop's  work 
into  the  hands  of  his  colleague.  He  ordained  and 
preached  and  advised  about  appointments,  but  he 
realized  the  fact  that  he  was  no  longer  able  to  do  the 
work  of  a  bishop.  He  had  now  but  one  work,  and  it 
was  to  do  as  much,  good  as  he  could.  He  carried 
Bibles  with  him  to  give  away.  He  scattered  tracts. 
He  visited  the  sick  and  dying.  He  spoke  to  all  about 
their  souls,  and  prayed  wherever  he  stopped,  either 
at  inn  or  private  house.  He  had  reached  a  period  of 
perfect  rest  in  his  religious  experience.  The  revival 
fire  was  burning  wherever  he  went,  the  burdens  of 
the  superintendency  were  no  longer  resting  heavily 
upon  him,  and  his  health,  though  Ijy  no  means  good, 
was  as  strong  as  it  had  been  for  some  years.  He  w^as 
greatly  beloved,  and  he  was  very  happy  in  knowing 
that  he  was.  Of  no  man  could  it  be  said  more  truly 
than  of  him  that  his  walk  was  in  heaven  and  that 
his  life  was  hid  with  Christ  in  God.  He  had  now 
neared  the  end  of  his  labors,  and  was  to  have  only 
one  more  year  of  really  efficient  work.  Henceforth 
the  shadows  deepened,  and  the  time  when  no  mnn 
can  work  drew  on  rapidly,  but  as  yet  he  did  not  real- 
ize the  fact  that  the  time  for  rest  was  near  at  hand, 
and  worked  on  as  aforetime. 


CHAPTER  XL. 

1813, 

Asbury's  Last  Effective  Year — Northward  Again — Whitehead's 
Life  of  Wesley — Things  in  New  England — Western  Journal 
— Epistle  to  McKendree — Charleston  Again. 

IN  1813  the  good  old  bishop  was  steadily  declining. 
He  had  now  been  forty-two  years  in  America  and 
nearly  fifty  years  in  the  regular  ministry.  Expos- 
ure, and  perhaps  injudicious  medication,  had  done 
much  to  break  him  down,  but  his  indomitable  will 
kept  him  on  his  feet.  The  first  of  January,  1813, 
found  him  in  Georgetown,  South  Carolina.  After 
twenty-nine  years  of  labor  they  had  a  church  and 
a  preacher's  home  in  Georgetown,  and  they  had  one 
thousand  black  and  one  hundred  white  members- 
most  of  them  women — in  the  society.  He  spent  a 
few. days  catching  up  with  his  correspondence,  and 
Ihen,  lame  and  with  high  fever,  through  the  rain  he 
came  to  Fayetteville,  North  Carolina.  With  a  blis- 
tered foot,  too  feeble  to  walk  to  church,  he  was  car- 
ried into  it,  where  he  preached  sitting,  and  ordained 
two  deacons  and  one  elder.  He  came  back  to  his 
lodgings  with  a  high  fever  and  applied  four  blisters, 
and  for  two  days  was  closely  confined  to  his  bed.  At 
AYilmington  he  was  carried  into  the  church  and 
preached  morning  and  evening,  and  then  w^ith  swoll- 
en feet  he  made  his  way  by  his  usual  route,  stemming 
the  cold  wind,  to  his  friend  Ballard's.  He  was  sadly 
lame,  and  could  not  wear  his  leather  shoe,  but  he 
(282) 


Francis  As  bury,  283 

pressed  on,  preacliiug  and  working.  At  Tliomas 
Lee's  he  preached  and  gained  a  fever  and  a  clear  con- 
science by  his  labors.  On  his  way  he  got  an  insight 
into  Whitehead's  Life  of  Wesley.  His  only  com- 
ment on  this  book,  so  offensive  to  the  early  Meth- 
odists, is:  "I  have  looked  into  Whitehead's  Life  of 
W^esley.  He  is  vilified.  Oh,  shame!"  Through  south- 
eastern Virginia  and  eastern  Virginia  he  made  his 
way  by  the  usual  route  into  Maryland,  preaching  as 
he  went,  though  he  could  not  stand.  At  last  he 
reached  Baltimore.  His  old  friend  Otterbein  came 
to  see  him.  Asbury  vvas  remarkable  for  the  strength 
and  duration  of  his  friendships.  He  never  seems 
to  have  lost  a  friend  to  whom  he  had  given  his  heart 
V,  ithout  reserve,  and  this  good  old  German  was  es- 
pecially dear  to  him.  Conference  was  in  session,  and 
Asbury  ordained  the  deacons  and  McKendree  the 
elders.  If  the  good  old  bishop  had  any  weakness 
vrhich  was  apparently  pronounced,  it  was  his  failure 
to  recognize  in  his  journal  the  labors  of  others  be- 
sides himself;  and  unless  one  knew  it  to  be  a  fact,  he 
would  not  learn  from  the  journal  that  McKendree 
was  with  him  at  this  or  at  other  Conferences.  The 
war  was  on  the  land,  and  there  were  confusion  and 
danger,  but  he  pressed  on;  his  friends  would  gladly 
have  sheltered  him  and  relieved  him  from  toil  and 
exposure,  but  he  felt  that  he  must  work  on,  and,  fee- 
ble as  he  was,  he  says  he  "preached  nearly  two  hours 
nnd  had  gracious  access  to  God."  And  on  the  next 
day  he  says:  "I  was  weary  and  faint,  and  returned  to 
my  sick  bed  to  take  medicine."  The  dear  old  bishop 
needed  some  protection  from  his  friends  as  well  as 
from  himself,  for  he  says :  "After  a  ride  of  twenty-five 


284  Francis  As  bury, 

miles  I  was  requested  to  preach  at  a  moment's  waru- 
ing,  and  1  found  an  assembly  ready.  It  would  seem 
as  if  the  preachers  think  they  are  committing  a  sin  if 
they  do  not  appoint  preaching  for  me  every  day,  and 
often  twice  a  day.  Lord,  support  us  in  our  labor, 
and  we  will  not  murmur."  The  New  York  Confer- 
ence was  held,  and  he  w^ent  into  New  England  and  to 
New  Hampshire,  vvhere  he  stopped  to  dine  with  the 
"nice  Websters,  in  Greenfield."  "My  knee,"  he  said, 
"is  swelled  again."  He  was  not  pleased  with  Win- 
chester, where  the  Conference  met,  nor,  for  all  that, 
with  the  state  of  religion  in  the  country.  "Like 
priest,  like  people,  in  these  parts,  both  judicially 
blind.  This  town  is  not  reformed  by  Methodist  Con- 
ference or  Methodist  preaching."  He  made  his  an- 
nual tour  through  the  New  England  states,  preach- 
ing as  he  went.  He  was  never  quite  able  to  get  rec- 
onciled to  New  England  ways,  and  says :  "I  have  diffi- 
culties to  encounter,  but  I  must  be  silent;  my  mind  is 
in  God.  In  New  England  we  sing,  v,  e  build  houses, 
we  eat,  and  stand  at  prayer.  Here  preachers  locate 
and  people  support  them,  and  have  traveling  preach- 
ers also.  Were  I  to  labor  forty-two  years  more,  I 
suppose  I  should  not  succeed  in  getting  things  right. 
Preachers  have  been  sent  away  from  Newport  by  an 
apostate.  Oh,  vain  steeple  houses,  bells  (organs  by 
and  by) !  these  things  are  against  me  and  contrary  to 
the  simplicity  of  Christ.  We  have  made  a  stand  in 
the  New  England  Conferences  against  steeples  and 
pews,  and  shall  probably  give  up  the  houses  unless 
the  pews  are  taken  out." 

The  old  bishop's  favorite  remedy  for  his  many 
physical  ills  seemed  to  be  tartar  emetic.     No  Thomp- 


Francis  As  bury,  285 

soniau  of  later  day  ever  relied  more  on  the  tincture 
of  lobelia  than  he  did  on  tartar,  and  when  he  was 
very  unwell  he  had  recourse  to  this  remedy.  He 
said :  "  My  dinner  and  supper  to-day  have  been  tartar 
emetic." 

He  was  an  intense  Methodist,  there  could  be  no 
question  of  that;  and  it  could  not  be  said  that  he  had 
a  lofty  opinion  of  the  i^iety  of  other  Churches,  and 
especially  of  Congregationalists,  or,  'as  he  called 
them,  Presbyterians;  but  he  despised  narrow  bigot- 
ry, and  says:  "I  never  knew  the  state  of  the  Metho- 
dist chapel  in  New  Durham  until  now.  It  was 
bought  of  the  Presbyterians,  carried  five  miles  and 
rebuilt  within  hearing  of  the  Independents'  church. 
There  is  surely  little  of  the  mind  of  Christ  in  all  this, 
and  I  will  preach  no  more  in  it.  Should  the  Meth- 
odists have  imitated  the  low  Dutch  who  treated 
them  exactly  thus  in  Albany?" 

The  travelers  pressed  on  to  New  York  to  the  Gene- 
see Conference,  which  met  in  Oneida  county.  The 
dear  old  man  says  pathetically:  "I  have  suffered 
much  from  hunger,  heat,  and  sickness  in  the  last  two 
hundred  and  seventy  miles.  If  we  were  disposed  to 
stop  at  taverns,  which  we  are  not,  our  funds  w^ould  not 
allow  it  always  when  we  need  refreshment  and  food. 
We  have  not  brethren  in  every  place,  and  the  east  is 
not  hospitable  Maryland,  or  the  south."  The  journey 
southward,  through  the  rough  country  of  southern 
New  York  and  northern  Pennsylvania,  was  one  of 
usual  difficulty  those  rude  days.  At  all  the  houses 
at  which  he  stopped,  either  to  spend  the  night  or  to 
dine,  he  had  religious  service;  and  generally  his 
services  were  respectfully  received,  but  not  always 


286  Francis  As  bub  y. 

so.  He  sajs:  "We  put  into  a  house  at  the  Great 
Bend,  in  Pennsylvania,  and  stopped  to  dine.  Here  1 
lectured,  sung,  and  prayed  with  the  infidels  of  the 
house;  some  stared,  some  smiled,  and  some  wept. 
The  lady  asked  me  to  call  again  as  I  passed.  'Yes, 
madam;  on  condition  you  will  do  two  things:  read 
your  Bible,  and  betake  yourself  to  prayer.'  "  On  his 
way  he  stopped  at  Daniel  Montgomery's.  His  wife, 
he  said,  was  Iiis  old  friend  Mollie  Wallis;  "but  oh, 
how  changed  in  forty-two  years!  Time  has  been 
eighty  years  at  work  on  her  wrinkled  face."  At  Ja- 
cob Gerhart's  the  company  went  to  bed  and  "I,"  he 
says,  "sat  up  hulling  peas,  and  I  am  to  preach  at  six 
o'clock."  On  the  next  day,  as  they  traveled,  "we 
asked  for  food,  and  were  told  a  tavern  was  near. 
Our  money  was  scarce.  We  had  borrowed  five  dol- 
lars, which  will  barely  be  enough,  perhaps,  to  bring 
us  through  this  inhospitable  district." 

It  was  during  this  tour  that  he  wrote  that  long, 
rambling  epistle  to  McKendree,  which  is  published 
in  full  in  Paine's  Life  of  McKendree,  giving  his 
views  of  the  episcopacy.  Feeble  as  he  was,  he  went 
to  camp  meetings,  and  pressed  on  his  way  to  the  Ohio 
Conference,  which  met  at  Chillicothe  on  September 
1;  and  then  to  Kentucky  to  the  Tennessee  Confer- 
ence, which  met  at  Reese  Chapel.  He  realized  that 
his  sun  was  setting,  and  as  he  stopped  to  rest  he 
wrote  his  valedictory  address  to  the  presiding  elders. 
He  says  little  in  his  journal  of  the  toils  of  this  weary 
journey.  He  came  through  North  Carolina  and 
?NOuth  Carolina  into  Georgia.  He  rode  through 
Georp^ia  as  far  as  Savannah,  and  into  South  Carolina 
again;  spent  a  little  while  in  Charleston,  and  closed 


Francis  As  bury,  287 

the  last  year  of  unbroken  toil  at  Rembert's.  Tliiji 
was  Asbury's  last  year  of  continuous  toil.  The  next 
two  years  of  his  life  were  broken  into  by  repeated 
attacks  which  confined  him  to  his  bed.  He  realized 
that  the  end  was  not  far  off,  and  very  grandly  he 
Ijrepared  for  his  departure.  He  surrendered  to  his 
colleague  the  entire  charge  of  the  work,  wrote  his 
farewell  to  the  presiding  elders,  made  his  will,  and 
then  went  on  doing  all  he  could.  The  work  he  had 
done  during  the  year  had  been  at  great  cost  of  suffer- 
ing, and  all  could  see,  save  the  man  himself,  that  he 
ought  to  have  sought  some  quiet  home  and  waited 
for  his  change;  but  the  feebler  he  grew  the  harder  he 
w^orked. 


CHAPTER  XLL 

1814-1815. 

The  Sun  Going  Down — Goes  Northward — Long  Attack  of  Sick- 
ness in  Pennsylvania — John  Wesley  Bond — McKendree 
Crippled— Reaches  Nashville — Georgia  for  the  Last  Time- 
Goes  Northward — The  West  Again— Surrenders  All  Control 
to  McKendree. 

ASBURY  spent  ten  days  in  Charleston  and  re- 
cruited his  strength  somewhat,  and  if  he  could 
liave  been  persuaded  to  remain  longer  in  its  bracing 
and  balmy  air  his  life  might  have  been  prolonged; 
but  he  had  suffered  so  much  and  was  so  accustomed 
to  the  invalid  life  he  had  led  that  while  he  could 
ride  he  felt  that  he  could  not  rest.  Time  was  so 
short,  he  said,  he  must  go.  On  January  1,  1814,  he 
preached  at  Rembert's,  and  in  company  with  some 
of  his  South  Carolina  brethren  he  began  his  journey. 
He  visited  and  prayed  with  his  old  friends  along  the 
route,  and  reached  Fayetteviile  in  five  days. 

fie  now  had  but  one  topic  in  every  sermon.  "Ho 
was  divinely  impressed,"  he  said,  "to  preach  sancti- 
fi cation  in  every  sermon."  The  South  Carolina  Con- 
ference m_et  in  Fayetteviile,  and  was  a  heavenly, 
spiritual,  and  united  Conference.  After  its  adjourn- 
ment he  remained  a  w^eeh,  and  then,  enjoying  great 
peace  of  mind,  he  came  away.  On  this  journey  he 
met  William  Glendening.  The  old  Scotchman  had 
once  been  his  warm  friend,  and  afterguards  his  stern 
opponent:  but  as  was  the  case  with  O'Kellv,  so  now 
with  Glendening,  the  old  veterans  met  and  embraced 
(288) 


Francis  Asburf.  289 

each  other,  and  parted  iu  peace.  Preaching  and  vis- 
iting his  brethren,  he  made  his  way  to  Norfolk,  where 
the  Virginia  Conference  was  to  meet;  but  the  expos- 
ure had  been  too  great  for  him,  and  when  he  reached 
Norfolk  he  had  a  severe  attack  of  pleurisy,  which 
confined  him  for  two  weeks;  but  he  got  out  of  his 
sick  bed,  and  through  excessive  cold  made  his  wa^ 
to  Baltimore.  During  the  whole  session  he  was  sick, 
but  he  preached  the  funeral  sermon  of  his  dear  friend 
Otterbein.  He  says  of  him:  "Forty  years  have  1 
known  the  retiring  modesty  of  this  man  of  God,  tow- 
ering, majestic,  above  his  fellows  in  learning,  wis- 
dom, and  grace,  and  3'et  seeking  to  be  known  only  of 
God  and  the  people  of  God.  He  had  been  sixty  years 
a  minister,  fifty  years  a  converted  one."  The  friend- 
ship betw^een  Otterbein  and  Asbury  was  very  beauti- 
ful. The  quiet,  self-poised,  cultivated  German  was 
worthy  of  the  love  the  sturdy,  self-taught  English- 
man felt  for  him. 

Feeble  as  Asbury  was,  he  still  pressed  on,  but  it 
was  evident  to  all  that  he  could  not  long  continue 
this  course.  He  left-Baltimore  on  his  northern  tour, 
and  his  journal  says:  "On  the  25th  of  April  I 
preached  at  Bethel.  We  had  a  rainy  day,  and  my 
flesh  failed.  I  rested  at  Bales's,  greatly  spent  with 
labor.  We  should  have  failed  in  our  march  through 
Jersey,  but  we  have  great  kindness  and  attentions, 
and  have  great  accommodations."  The  next  entry 
is  in  July:  "I  return  to  my  journal  after  an  interval 
of  twelve  weeks.  I  have  been  ill  indeed."  The  at- 
tention the  dear  old  bishop  received  was  all  that 
could  be  rendered,  but  as  soon  as  he  conld  be  lifted 
into  his  little  covered  wagon  he  began  his  journey. 
19 


290  Fbancis  Asbury, 

The  kind  people  of  Pliiladelpliia  sent  him  a  neat  car- 
riage, and  the  Baltimore  Conference  detailed  John 
Weslej  Bond  to  attend  him  on  his  journey.  This 
young  man,  who  was  so  dear  to  Asbury,  was  the 
brother  of  the  distinguished  Thomas  E.  Bond,  who 
was  the  famous  editor  of  the  Christian  Admcate  and 
Journal,  and  the  uncle  of  the  not  less  distinguished 
Thomas  E.  Bond,  Jr.,  editor  of  the  Baltimore  Chris- 
tian Advocate.  John  Wesley  Bond  was  a  very  pious, 
very  earnest  young  man,  and  devoted  to  Asbury.  He 
did  much  for  the  relief  of  the  poor  invalid,  and  per- 
haps shortened  his  own  life  by  his  devotion  to  him. 
Despite  his  feebleness,  Asbury  started  with  his  com- 
panion westward.  He  was  very  happy  in  his  reli- 
gious life.  He  says:  "I  groan  one  minute  with  pain 
and  shout  glory  the  next."  In  their  comfortable 
two-horse  carriage  they  made  their  way  over  horri- 
ble roads  toward  Ohio,  and  then  through  the  state  to 
Cincinnati.  He  was  riding  over  bad  roads,  sick  and 
weary^  trying  to  preach  and  exhort  at  every  stopping 
place.  To  add  to  his  distress,  McKendree  had  been 
thrown  from  his  horse  and  badly  crippled,  and  was 
unable  to  get  to  Cincinnati  to  the  Conference.  As 
neither  bishop  could  preside,  John  Sale  did  so.  The 
old  bishop  made  out  a  plan  of  appointments  and  then 
hurried  away  through  Kentucky  to  the  seat  of  the 
Tennessee  Conference,  which  included  a  considera- 
ble part  of  Kentucky. 

Sick  as  he  was,  he  had  intended  to  make  an  effort 
to  reach  the  Natchez  country;  but  Bishop  McKen- 
dree was  so  lame  that  Bishop  Asbilry  said  it  was 
doubtful  as  to  whether  he  could  reach  the  South  Car- 
olina Conference  in  time,  and  for  that  reason  alone 


FliA^CIS  ASBUEY.  2U1 

lie  gave  up  the  attempt.  With  his  colleague  he 
braved  the  oft-crossed  Cumberland  and  Alleghany 
mountains  again,  passed  through  South  Carolina, 
and  went  into  Georgia,  and  reached  Milledgeviile. 
He  was  so  feeble  that  he  could  not  be  heard,  but  he 
attempted  to  preach  at  the  ordination,  and  after  the 
adjournment  of  Conference  he  and  his  assistants 
moved  toward  Charleston.  In  Augusta,  in  the  house 
of  Asaph  Waterman,  he  preached  his  last  sermon  in 
Georgia,  and  left  the  state  the  next  day  to  return 
to  it  no  more.  He  did  not  go,  as  was  his  custom,  to 
Charleston,  but  made  his  way  through  South  Caro- 
lina and  North  Carolina  and  by  his  oft-traveled  route 
to  Maryland.  There  is  nothing  in  the  account  he 
gives  save  the  same  story  of  travel  and  suffering 
until  the  reader  feels  the  pain,  and  longs  for  some 
one  to  lay  his  hand  on  him  and  stay  him  in  his  prog- 
ress. 

He  was  dying  with  senile  consumption,  but  he 
would  not  pause.  Through  the  eastern  shore, 
through  Delaware,  through  Pennsylvania  and  New 
Jersey,  the  w^eary  man  moved  to  New  York.  ^^Poor, 
wheezing,  groaning,  coughing  Francis,"  as  he  called 
himself,  came  into  the  New  York  Conference  and 
spent  a  few  hours.  Although  he  could  not  preach  or 
talk  long,  he  could  plan ;  and  he  did  that,  and  went  on 
toward  New  England,  to  go  on  to  the  seat  of  the 
New  England  Conference.  He  was  unable  to  pre- 
side, but  George  Pickering  did  that  for  him,  and  he 
did  the  ordaining  and  the  planning.  Although  it 
was  the  10th  of  June,  they  had  rain  and  snow.  Mc- 
Kendree  had  gone  to  w^estern  New  York  to  meet  the 
Genesee  Conference,  and  they  were  to  meet  again  at 


292  Francis  As  bury. 

the  Ohio  Conference  in  September.  It  was  with  the 
usual  -  difficult  J  that  he  made  this  journey,  but  he 
reached  Lebanon  in  good  time.  On  the  way  he  dis- 
tributed hundreds  of  Testaments,  visited  many  of 
his  old  friends,  and  preached  at  the  camp  meetings. 
Of  course  he  was  too  feeble  to  be  heard,  but  the  peo- 
ple were  anxious  to  get  only  a  sight  of  the  aged  and 
venerated  ai^ostle.  He  and  Bishop  McKendree  had 
now  an  earnest  talk.  "I  told  Bishop  McKendree  the 
western  part  of  the  empire  would  be  the  glory  or 
America  for  the  poor  imd  pious;  that  it  ought  to 
have  five  Conferences,  and  as  far  as  I  could  I  traced 
out  the  lines  and  boundaries.  I  told  my  colleague 
that  having  i^assed  the  first  allotted  period — seventy 
years — and  being,  as  he  knew,  out  of  health,  it  could 
not  be  expected  that  I  could  visit  the  extremities, 
every  year,  sitting  in  eight,  and  it  might  be  twelve, 
Conferences,  and  traveling  six  thousand  miles  in 
eight  months.  If  I  was  able  to  keep  up  with  the 
Conferences  I  could  not  be  expected  to  preside  at 
more  tlian  every  other  one.  As  to  the  stations,  I 
should  never  exhibit  a  plan  unfinished,  but  still  get 
all  the  Information  in  my  power.  The  plan  I  might 
be  laboring  on  would  always  be  submitted  to  such 
eyes  as  ought  to  see  it,  and  the  measure  I  meted  to 
others  I  should  expect  to  receive,"  This  was  a  char- 
acteristic utterance,  and  there  is  a  pathos  in  the 
statement  that  he  would  not  expect  to  preside  over 
more  than  half  of  the  Conferences,  and  his  appoint- 
ments should  be  made  by  himself.  He  attempted  to 
preach  the  memorial  sermon  for  Dr.  Coke,  and  then 
went  into  Tennessee  to  meet  the  Tennessee  Confer- 
ence in  Wilson  connty.    Although  he  had  spoken  so 


FliA^'CIS  As  BURY,  293 

decidedlj  to  Bishop  McKendree  at  the  Ohio  Confer- 
ence, when  he  reached  the  Tennessee  Conference  he 
said:  "My  eyes  fail;  I  will  resign  the  stations  to 
Bishop  McKendree;  I  will  take  aw^ay  my  feet.  It  is 
my  fifty-fifth  year  of  ministry  and  forty-fifth  of  labor 
in  America.  My  mind  enjoys  great  peace  and  divine 
consolation;  my  health  is  better,  but  whether  health, 
life,  or  death,  good  is  the  will  of  the  Lord.  I  will 
trust  him  and  will  praise  him.  He  is  the  strength  of 
my  heart  and  my  portion  forfeyer.  Glory  I  glory! 
glory!" 

And  thus  he  surrendered  his  commission.  He  had 
been  in  sole  command  of  the  army  for  all  these  years, 
and  had  allowed  none  to  interfere  with  his  mandate; 
but  now  he  lays  it  down,  and  henceforth  leaves  to  an- 
other to  do  the  duty  so  long  resting  upon  him.  He 
turned  his  face  eastward,  and  by  the  5th  of  Decem- 
ber he  stopped  at  the  home  of  Wesley  Harrison,  the 
son  of  Thomas  Harrison,  who  had  been  the  first  to 
receive  him  in  his  visit  to  Harrisonburg,  Virginia; 
and  from  his  house  he  turned  his  face  southward  on 
his  w^ay  to  Charleston.  By  December  20th,  finding 
that  he  would  not  be  able  to  make  the  journey,  he 
turned  back  at  Granby,  South  Carolina,  and  the  last 
entry  in  his  journal  w\as  made,  according  to  the  print- 
ed page,  on  the  7th  of  December.  The  journal  says 
he  was  in  Virginia  November  1.  This  was  an  error. 
He  was  in  Middle  Tennessee  the  first  of  November, 
and  could  not  possibly  have  reached  Virginia  in  five 
days.  The  editor  has  evidently  been  misled  by  the 
names  of  Wesley  and  Thomas  Harrison,  and  the  fact 
stated  that  their  father  received  him  at  Harrison- 
burg, Virginia.     He  evidently  took  the  nearest  route 


2'^i  FbaiWis  Asbuey, 

to  South  Carolina,  and  passed  again  over  tlie  mount- 
ains into  Buncombe  county  and  then  into  the  upper 
part  of  South  Carolina.  The  entry  was  no  doubt 
made  by  the  editor,  who,  careful  as  he  was,  made  a 
number  of  small  mistakes.  Asbury  says  he  came  to 
Wesley  Harrison's,  then  to  Thomas  Harrison's.  He 
was  in  Sumner  county,  Tennessee,  when  he  started 
to  Charleston.  He  says:  "\Ye  came  upon  the  turn- 
pike— a  disgrace  to  the  state."  He  came  to  father 
Holt's,  and  in  a  few  days  was  at  Wesley  Harrison's, 
then  by  Robert  Harrison's,  Boling's,  Bamett's, 
Mills's,  Glover's,  Arrington's,  Means's.  These  names 
indicate  the  route  he  pursued,  which  was  through 
East  Tennessee,  western  Xorth  Carolina,  and  upper 
South  Carolina  to  Columbia.  He  had  taken  a  month 
for  the  tour,  and  nov/  turned  his  course  from  Colum- 
bia toward  Charleston;  but  at  Granby  he  found  it 
would  be  useless  to  attempt  to  make  the  journey,  and 
he  turned  his  face  northward.  The  last  entry  he 
ever  made  in  his  journal  was  made  here,  and  is 
Thursday,  7th  of  December:  "We  met  a  storm  and 
stopped  at  William  Baker's,  Granby."  He  was  dy- 
ing with  consumption,  and  the  disease  was  a.«^gra- 
yated  by  a  severe  influenza.  He  knew  it  would  be 
useless  to  go  farther,  and  he  turned  his  way  toward 
Maryland. 


CHAPTER  XLll. 

1816. 

Asbury's  Last  Journey — The  Sun  Goes  Down — Granby,  Soutli 
Carolina — Journey  to  Richmond — Last  Sermon — Beaches  Mr. 
Arnold's — ^Dcath  Scene. 

GRANBY  was  a  small  village  in  the  central  part 
of  South  Carolina,  and  when  the  invalid  bishop 
realized  the  fact  that  he  could  not  reach  Charleston 
for  the  Conference  he  decided  to  return  to  Maryland, 
so  as  to  be  at  the  session  of  the  General  Conference 
in  Ma3^  We  have  no  record  of  this  journey,  the  last 
he  made-  It  is  likely  that  he  went  by  Camden  and 
Fayetteville  and  "SUlmington,  and  along  the  eastern 
shore  of  North  Carolina  and  Virginia  to  Norfolk,  and 
then  turned  tov.ard  Richmond.  Along  this  route  he 
had  many  friends  and  many  homes,  and  the  journey 
could  be  made  in  easy  stages.  He  preached,  or  at- 
tempted to  preach,  to  the  last.  He  was  wasted  to  a 
skeleton,  and  could  not  do  more  than  speak  while  sit- 
ting, in  tones  too  low  for  any  but  a  very  few  to  hear, 
but  he  would  not  allow  himself  any  repose.  It  was 
nearly  three  months  after  he  left  Granby  before 
lie  reached  Richmond,  Virginia.  He  wished,  he  said, 
once  more  to  preach  here,  and  he  was  borne  in  the 
arms  of  his  brethren  to  the  church  and  seated  upon 
a  table,  and  with  feeble  voice,  after  pausing  to  re- 
cover his  breath,  he  preached  for  nearly  an  hour  with 
much  feeling  from  Romans  ix.  2R:  "For  he  will  finish 
the  work,  and  cut  it  short  in  righteousness:  because 

(295) 


296  Feancis  As  bury, 

a  short  work  will  the  Lord  make  upon  tlie  earth.-' 
The  audience  were  much  aiiected.  It  was  to  them  us 
a  voice  from  another  world.  He  felt  that  he  was 
speaking  to  them  for  the  last  time,  and  he  spoke  with 
the  earnestness  and  tenderness  of  a  dying  man. 
When  the  rambling,  tender  talk  was  finished  thev 
bore  the  attenuated  form  of  the  djing  man  to  the  car- 
riage, and  he  left  the  pulpit  which  he  had  entered  at 
sixteen  years  old  to  return  to  it  no  more.  He  had 
probably  preached  more  sermons  at  the  time  he 
ceased  his  work  than  any  other  man  then  in  the 
world.  Mr.  Wesley,  who  went  to  crowded  cities  and 
populous  villages  by  easy  riding,  may  have  preached 
oftener  when  he  lived,  but  it  is,  I  think,  a  fact 
that  Asbury,  up  to  the  time  he  died,  had  i^reached 
more  sermons  than  any  other  man  then  living  in 
the  world.  From  Maine  to  Tennessee,  from  Ohio  to 
the  borders  of  Florida,  his  voice  had  been  heard. 
His  zeal  never  knew  any  abatement,  and  he  never 
stayed  on  his  way,  unless  he  was  too  ill  to  ride.  But 
now  his  work  was  done.  In  October,  1771,  he 
preached  his  first  sermon  in  America  in  Philadel- 
phia; in  March,  1816,  forty-five  years  afterwards,  he 
preached  for  the  last  time  in  Eiclimond,  Virginia. 

He  rested  on  Monday,  and  started  on  his  journey 
on  Tuesday.  He  went  by  slow  stages  until  Friday, 
when  he  reached  the  home  of  his  old  friend  George 
Arnold,  in  Spottsylvania, Virginia, twenty  miles  from 
Fredericksburg,  which  he  was  trying  to  reach  by 
the  Sabbath.  Finding  it  impossible  to  go  forward, 
he  did  not  make  the  attempt.  He  grew  worse,  and 
his  friends  wished  to  send  for  a  physician,  but  he 
would  not  consent,  saying  that  before  he  could  reach 


Francis  Asbuhf.  2lI7 

iiiin  he  would  be  gone.  He  was  asked  if,  iu  view  of 
death,  he  had  anything  to  communicate.  He  said  he 
had  fully  exiJiessed  his  mind  in  relation  to  the 
Church  in  his  address  to  the  bishop  and  to  the  Gen- 
eral Conference.     He  had  nothing  more  to  add. 

Sunday  morning  came,  and  he  asked  if  it  was  not 
time  for  service,  and,  recollecting  himself,  he  re- 
quested the  family  to  be  called  together.  This  was 
done,  and  his  young  companion,  at  his  request,  chose 
the  twenty-first  chapter  of  Revelation,  which  he  read 
and  expounded.  During  these  exercises  he  appeared 
calm  and  much  engaged  in  devotion.  He  grew  fee- 
bler, and  his  speech  began  to  fail.  Seeing  the  dis- 
tress of  his  son  John,  as  he  called  young  Bond,  he 
raised  his  hand  and  looked  upon  him  with  a  smile  of 
joy,  and  then,  raising  both  hands,  he  bent  his  head 
on  the  hand  of  his  dear  son  and  breathed  his  life  out. 
He  w^as  in  his  seventj^-first  year.  His  death  took 
place  on  the  21st  day  of  March,  1816.  He  was  buried 
by  those  who  were  with  him  in  the  family  burying 
ground  of  Mr.  Arnold,  but  at  the  session  of  the  Gen- 
eral Conference  the  remains  were  brought  to  Balti- 
more and  deposited  in  a  vault  under  the  pulpit  of  the 
Eutaw-street  Church. 

The  insignificant  town  he  had  entered  forty  years 
before,  and  in  which  he  had  begun  a  meeting  that 
seemed  to  promise  so  little,  was  now  a  large  and 
wealthy  city.  He  was  known  to  all  its  people  and 
honored  by  them  all.  A  vast  concourse  of  citizens 
and  several  clergymen  of  other  denominations  fol- 
low^ed  the  corpse  from  Light  street  to  the  burial 
Dlace  on  Eutaw,  and  the  General  Conference,  with 
^IcKendree  and  the  English  representative.  Black, 


298  Francis  As  bury. 

at  its  head,  walked  iu  sad  procession  to  the  church, 
aud  he  was  laid  to  rest.  The  Methodists  of  the  city 
afterw  ards  purchased  a  handsome  body  of  land  near 
the  city  and  ox^ened  Mount  Olivet  cemetery,  to  which 
his  remains  were  removed,  and  in  which  they  now 
lie;  and  not  far  from  these  remains  lie  those  of  his 
old  associate  and  companion  Jesse  Lee,  v\'ho  died  the 
latter  jjart  of  the  same  year  in  which  Asburj^  died. 

With  the  death  of  Asbury  passed  away  the  man 
who  had  exerted  a  mightier  influence  over  America 
than  any  other  who  had  ever  lived  in  it.  He  had 
entered  upon  the  work  of  the  ministry  in  America 
when  the  Methodists  were  but  a  mere  handful.  He 
had  become  the  most  influential  man  among  the 
Methodist  i)reachers  before  he  was  ai)pointed  to 
the  superintendeney,  and  that  influence  continued 
unlimited  for  forty  years  after  he  was  elected  a 
bishop.  His  voice  was  the  most  potent  in  the  land. 
Neither  Ignatius  Loyola  nor  John  Wesley  had  a 
greater  pov/er  over  those  associated  with  them  than 
this  saddler  apprentice  of  Birmingham,  and  neither 
of  them  had  so  mighty  a  personal  influence  upon 
so  many  people.  His  place  in  the  history  of  Amer- 
ican civilization  has  not  been  accorded,  and  even 
many  of  those  who  have  entered  into  the  fruit 
of  his  labor  have  not  properly  rated  this  man  who 
planned  so  well  and  did  so  much.  He  was  not  like 
Luther,  or  Wesley,  or  Calvin,  a  man  of  many  sides. 
He  was  remarkable  in  that  he  had  but  one  aim  and 
but  one  way  to  advance  it.  His  aim  was  simply  to 
save  men  from  sin,  and  his  way  to  advance  that  was 
by  the  simple  preaching  of  the  go'^T)ol.  He  had  full 
faith  in  the  gospel,  and  he  believed  if  it  was  preached 


Francis  As  bury.  299 

imu  accepted  that  ail  other  tilings  wouid  follow  in  its 
wake.  He  had  no  faith  in  government  or  education 
or  in  anything  human  apart  from  the  gospel,  and  he 
believed  that  he  had  but  one  work  to  do,  and  that 
was  to  preach  it;  and  from  the  time  he  left  his  place 
on  the  saddler's  bench  for  his  circuit  till  the  end,  this 
was  his  w  ork. 

The  story  w^ritten  in  these  pages  has  been  a  story 
of  most  heroic  encounter  with  difficulties  and  of  un- 
ceasing toil.  The  opening  of  the  western  country, 
the  subjugation  of  the  Indian  tribes,  the  impetus 
given  to  emigration  from  the  older  to  the  newer 
states,  demanded  action  quick  and  sharp.  The  over- 
throw of  the  state  churches  in  the  south,  the  wouder- 
ful  interest  which  had  been  aroused  in  religious  mat- 
ters all  over  the  land,  had  called  for  some  great  lead- 
er who  knew  what  to  do  and  how  to  do  it.  Asbury 
was  eminently  adapted  to  that  place,  and  filled  it  as 
perhaps  no  other  man  could  have  done.  He  began 
his  work  when  there  was  not  a  turnpike  nor  a  stage 
line  in  America,  and  vrhen  the  paths  to  the  wilder- 
ness were  Indian  trails.  He  had  gone  into  the  wil- 
derness while  the  war  whoop  of  the  savage  was  still 
in  the  ears  of  those  to  whom  he  preached.  The  hard- 
ships he  was  compelled  to  endure  were  never  inter- 
mitted, and  to  add  to  it  all  he  was  an  invplid  a  lar.oe 
part  of  the  time.  He  saw,  however,  the  labor  of  his 
hands  as  no  other  man  perhaps  has  ever  seen  it.  The 
year  he  began  his  work  there  were  less  than  five  hun- 
dred Methodists  in  Amenca;  when  he  died  there 
were  two  hundred  and  fourteen  thousand.  The 
rhuroh  had  been  organized  and  was  in  working  or- 
der in  every  part  of  the  field.     He  had  breathed  his 


300  Francis  Asbuhy, 

spirit  into  hundreds  of  itinerant  and  local  preachers, 
and  when  he  ceased  at  once  to  work  and  live  the 
Church  to  which  he  gave  his  life  was  established 
over  all  the  United  States. 

Realizing  a  few  years  before  his  death  that  he  was 
near  his  end,  he  made  his  will.  He  had  never  made 
or  tried  to  make  a  dollar.  His  small  income,  the 
same  as  that  allowed  every  traveling  preacher,  suf- 
ficed for  his  moderate  wants,  and  from  that  he  was 
able  to  assist  his  aged  parents.  After  they  died  he 
gave  what  he  could  save  to  the  widows  of  itinerant 
preachers  and  to  the  needy  preachers  he  met  on  his 
tours.  Some  friends  made  him  sundry  bequests. 
and  he  had  two  thousand  dollars  of  his  own  in  his 
old  age.  He  bequeathed  that  to  the  widows  of  his 
old  associates,  providing  that  every  child  who  bore 
his  name  should  have  a  Bible  furnished  to  him  by 
his  executors. 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

Asbury's  Eeligious  Experience. 

NO  honest  biography  of  Asbury  can  be  written 
which  does  not  give  prominence  to  his  account 
of  his  personal  religious  experience.  In  no  private 
diary  is  there  a  fuller  exhibit  given  of  all  the  phases 
of  one's  inner  life  than  Asbury  gives  in  the  pages  of 
his  honest  and  homely  journal.  He  was  a  good 
child  —  prayerful,  obedient,  and  truthful.  When 
quite  a  child  he  was  awakened  to  the  need  of  conver- 
sion, and  at  twelve  years  of  age  was  converted.  He 
knew  it  and  rejoiced  in  it,  and,  tliough  through  a 
child's  ignorance  he  afterwards  lost  the  evidence,  he 
never  lost  the  character  of  a  Christian,  and  when  he 
was  sixteen  he  began  to  preach.  His  religious  life 
V7as  serious,  self-denying,  and  emotional.  All  Meth- 
odists in  that  day,  after  a  conscious  conversion,  be- 
gan to  seek  for  what  they  called  the  removal  of  the 
least  and  last  remains  of  the  carnal  mind,  and  As- 
bury began  to  seek  for  it  with  all  his  heart,  and  in  tlie 
ardor  of  boyhood  and  in  his  early  and  happy  experi- 
ence he  thought  he  had  attained  it,  but  he  afterwards 
decided  that  he  was  mistaken.  He  had  almost  an 
uninterrupted  witness  of  acceptance  with  God,  and 
had  a  constant  dominion  over  sin  and  the  witness  of 
his  own  spirit  that  he  was  pure  in  his  Intentions;  but 
he  was  confident  that  that  loftv  experience  ^Tr,  Wes- 
ley pictured  as  Christian  perfection  he  had  not 
reached  when  he  came  to  America,  nor  for  many 
years  afterwards. 

^301) 


302  Francis  Asbuey, 

During  iiis  first  jears  in  America,  while  lie  records 
a  story  of  great  comforts,  lie  wrote  bitter  tilings 
against  liimseif  oftentimes,  and  censures  iiimseif  lor 
sundry  failings.  Thus  in  177:3:  ''Found  an  inatten- 
tion to  study,  an  unsettled  frame  of  mind,  and  much 
backwardness  in  prayer.  Lord,  help  me  with  active 
warmth  to  move."  ''Visited  an  old  man  who  was 
sick,  but  came  away  without  prayer,  and  was  justly 
blamed,  both  by  my  friends  and  myself.  Lord,  for- 
give my  secret  and  open  faults.''  ''My  heart  is  still 
distressed  for  want  of  more  religion.  1  long  to  be 
wholly  given  up,  and  to  seek  no  favor  but  what  com- 
eth  from  God  alone."  ^'A  cloud  rested  on  my  mind, 
w^hich  w^as  occasioned  by  talking  and  jesting.  I  also 
feel  at  times  tempted  to  impatience  and  pride  of 
heart."  "In  this  journey  I  have  my  soul  comforta- 
ble and  alive  to  God."  "On  Saturday  all  my  soul 
was  love.  No  desire  for  anything,  but  God  had 
place  in  my  heart.  Keep  me,  O  Lord,  in  this  de- 
lightful, blessed  frame!"  On  Tuesday  he  says:  "My 
foolish  heart  felt  rather  disposed  to  murmuring, 
I^ride,  and  discontent.  Lord,  pardon  me,  and  grant 
me  grace."  The  next  day  he  says:  "My  conscience 
reproves  me  for  the  appearance  of  levity." 

These  are  but  specimen  extracts  from  his  early 
journal.  Sometimes  he  is  very  happy  after  being 
very  much  depressed,  condemning  himself  for  w^hat 
appears  to  us  to  have  been  neither  errors  nor  sins ; 
but,  despite  his  changing  moods,  he  was  always 
faithful.  He  had  one  desire:  to  live  entirely  for 
God.  Resigned,  submissive,  untiring,  he  pressed  on 
the  way. 

On  June  14, 1774,  he  savs :  "Mv  heart  seems  wholly 


Francis  Asbuby.  303 

devoted  to  God,  and  he  favors  me  with  power  over 
all  outward  and  inward  sin.  Some  people,  if  they 
felt  as  I  feel  at  present,  would,  perhaps,  conclude 
they  vv^ere  saved  from  all  indwelling  sin.''  The  next 
day  he  says:  ''My  soul  was  under  heavy  exercises 
and  much  troubled  by  manifold  temptations.  1  feel 
it  hurtful  to  lay  too  much  on  myself.  Lord,  make 
thy  face  to  shine  upon  me,  and  make  me  always  joy- 
ful in  thy  salvation." 

These  extracts  fi^om  his  journal  are  merely  sam- 
ples of  numerous  entries,  and  they  tell  the  same 
story;  a  constant  reaching  forward  after  the  high- 
est attainments  and  varying  sensations — sometimes 
very  happy,  sometimes  very  much  depressed. 

On  Sunday,  August  G,  178(),  he  says:  "A  pleasing 
thought  passed  through  my  mind.  It  was  this :  that 
I  was  saved  from  the  remains  of  sin.  As  yet,  I  have 
felt  no  returns  thereof."  But  on  October  5,  of  the 
same  year,  he  says:  "My  soul  is  under  deep  exercise 
on  account  of  the  deadness  of  the  people  and  my  own 
want  of  fervor  and  holiness  of  heart." 

The  effort  to  arrive  at  a  satisfactory  conclusion 
about  the  extent  of  the  good  work  wrought  in  his 
soul  had  been  so  unsatisfactory  that  for  some  years 
he  seems  to  have  almost  given  over  any  effort  to 
make  an  exact  record  of  it.  His  affections  never 
vaned;  his  devotion  to  duty  knew  no  intermission; 
his  prayerfulness  and  his  attention  to  his  religious 
duties  never  slackened:  but  his  introspection  was 
to  a  large  degree  interfered  with  by  the  demands 
of  his  work  upon  him.  His  sky  grew  brighter  as  the 
years  passed  on,  and  during  the  days  of  his  long  in- 
valid life  there  was  a  constant  serenity.    He  had  re- 


304  FHANCIS  ASBURY, 

ceived,  as  aii  the  Methodists  had,  the  teachings  of 
Mr.  Vv^esley  on  the  possibility  of  Christian  perfection 
secured  instantly  by  faith,  and  was  patiently  wait- 
ing, as  he  was  earnestly  groaning,  for  the  hour  when 
the  consciousness  would  be  given  him  that  his  soul 
was  filled  vsith  pure  love. 

In  1803  he  said:  "My  general  experience  is:  close 
communion  with  God,  holy  fellowship  with  the  Fa- 
ther and  his  Son  Jesus  Christ,  a  v/ill  resigned,  fre- 
quent addresses  to  the  throne  of  grace."  And  Jan- 
uary 9  he  says:  ''I  feel  it  my  duty  to  speak  chiefly 
upon  perfection,  and,  above  all,  to  strive  to  attain 
unto  that  which  I  preach."  March  7 :  ^^  I  find  the  way 
of  holiness  very  narrow  to  walk  in  or  to  preach."  In 
April,  1803,  he  says:  ''My  mind  is  in  a  great  calm 
after  the  tumult  of  the  Baltimore  Conference — in  ad- 
dition to  the  charge  of  the  superintendency  to  feel 
and  to  live  perfect  love." 

This  was  thirty-two  years  after  he  came  to  Amer- 
ica, when  he  was  fifty-eight  years  old;  and,  as  far  as 
I  can  find  it,  this  is  the  first  positive  statement  that 
what  he  sought  for  he  had  found.  As  in  the  case  of 
Mr.  Wesley  and  Mr.  Fletcher,  there  is  nowhere  a 
marked  line  when  he,  by  a  wonderful  transition, 
passed  into  the  land  of  perfect  peace.  It  was,  as  far 
as  his  journal  tells  the  story,  a  constant  progress, 
leading  him  at  last  into  the  land  of  Beulah. 

The  study  of  a  life  like  his,  where  all  the  throb- 
bings  of  an  earnest  heart  are  seen,  cannot  but  be  a 
profitable  exercise.  When  we  note  tlie  experiences 
through  which  he  passed,  and  when  his  life  in  its 
external  features  is  looked  at.  we  find  thnt  an  ex- 
ample of  advanced  holiness  Is  presented  which  has 


Francis  As  bury,  305 

rarely  been  equaled  in  this  world.  Perhaps  he 
erred,  I  may  say  confidently  he  did  err,  in  following 
his  ideas  of  self-denial  to  the  extent  he  did.  Not 
Loyola,  with  his  scourge,  had  less  pity  on  his  poor, 
feeble  frame  than  Asbury  on  himself.  He  pitied 
every  being  but  himself.  The  poorest  slave,  who 
was  so  much  the  object  of  his  pity,  was  better  treat- 
ed by  the  cruelest  master  than  Asbury  treated  his 
poor,  frail,  emaciated  body.  Fasting  when  he  was 
barely  able  to  walk,  facing  bleak  winter  when  God's 
laws  called  him  to  shelter,  riding  in  hot  suns  when  he 
needed  shade,  rising  from  a  bed  when  exhausted  na- 
ture bade  him  stay,  he  suffered  when  God  would 
have  spared  him.  His  austerity  toward  himself 
made  him  not  sour,  but  did  make  Lim  exacting  to- 
ward others,  and  he  had  less  love  for  the  things  God 
had  made  lovely  than  was  his  privilege  and,  perhaps, 
his  duty.  God  honored  him  greatly,  and  for  years 
he  walked  in  the  secret  place  of  the  Almighty.  His 
life  was  hid  with  Christ  in  God. 

Augustine,  Luther,  Calvin,  Knox,  Wesley,  were 
good  men  all ;  but  in  the  holiness  of  his  life  and  in  the 
extent  of  his  usefulness,  Francis  Asbury  wms  behind 
none  of  them. 
20 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

The  CHARAcrER  of  Francis  Asbury. 

IN  my  opinion  Francis  Asbury  lias  been  the  worst 
njisread  man  in  tlie  history  of  the  first  men  of 
American  Methodism.  When  fair  and  well-informed 
historians  give  an  estimate  of  him  so  different  from 
that  I  entertain,  I  may  hesitate  in  giving  utterance 
to  my  conclusions;  but  a  long  and  very  careful  study 
of  a  very  transparent  life  has,  I  think,  qualified  me 
for  making  a  verdict. 

By  the  older  class  of  Methodists  he  was  looked 
upon  almost  with  awe.  He  was  the  ideal  Christian. 
Mr.  Wesley  had  no  more  the  confidence  of  the  Eng- 
lish Wesleyans,  Calvin's  followers  were  not  blinder 
in  their  attachment  to  the  great  reformer,  than  the 
preachers  brought  into  the  work  in  America  were  to 
Asbury.  Many  of  the  latter-day  Methodists  do  not 
place  him  on  this  high  pedestal.  They  know  little  of 
him,  and  judging  him  from  the  allusiions  to  him  in 
history  thev  have  failed  by  a  great  deal  to  recognize 
his  true  worth. 

I  do  not  think,  rating  men  as  they  are  rated  by  men, 
that  Asbury  was  intellectually  a  great  man.  Many 
of  the  leaders  of  the  Methodist  movement  were  be- 
yond him  in  extraordinary  endowments,  but  in  prac- 
tical common  sense  he  was  behind  none  of  them. 
Mr.  Wesley's  wondrous  power  to  rule  men,  and  his 
correct  idea  of  what  was  to  be  done,  was  not  beyond 
(306) 


Francis  As  bury,  307 

tliat  of  Asbury.  In  directing  the  work  of  tlie  Church 
as  a  ijastor  he  made  few  mistakes,  and  when  he  was 
invested  with  the  bishopric  his  judgment  was  nearly 
always  to  be  relied  on.  Sometimes  he  overrated  a 
man,  sometimes  he  undervalued  him,  but  generally 
his  estimate  was  a  correct  one.  He  saw  the  field,  he 
realized  the  need  of  the  times,  and  he  had  at  once  a 
man  to  supply  the  need.  He  w^as  a  general  com- 
manding, arid  his  campaign  was  always  well  planned 
and  wide-sweeping. 

He  was  a  diligent  student.  He  knew  enough  of 
Greek,  Latin,  and  Hebrew  to  read  the  Bible  in  them. 
He  was  well  read  in  the  theology  of  the  Wesleyans, 
was  acquainted  with  the  best  of  the  old  Puritan  di- 
vines, and  he  read  much  history,  both  profane  and 
sacred,  and  was  very  fond  of  religious  biography. 
With  polite  literature  he  had  no  acquaintance  at  all, 
and  perhaps  he  regarded  its  study  as  something 
rather  to  be  avoided  than  to  be  pursued.  He  was  a 
very  decided  and  unswerving  man.  The  sturdiness 
of  his  race  found  its  best  example  in  him.  He  was 
absolutely  fearless,  and  was  as  immovable  as  granite 
when  principle  was  involved.  There  have  been  a 
few  points  at  which  I  was  compelled  to  admit  that 
the  adhering  to  what  he  believed  to  be  right  led  him 
to  do  some  violence  to  what  I  thought  were  the  rights 
of  others,  but  he  never  did  anything  Tie  could  not  de- 
fend, nor  ever  asked  one  to  do  anything  when  lie  did 
not  believe  he  ought  to  do  it. 

I  would  not  be  perfectly  fair  if  I  did  not  admit  that 
in  some  respects  Mr.  Asbury  seems  to  have  been  a 
narrow  man.  His  ideas  of  ministerial  support,  of 
the  obligations  of  a  people  to  their  pastor,  and  of  a 


308  Francis  As  bury. 

pastor  to  his  family,  were  exceedingly  contracted. 
He  unwittingly  encouraged  good  men  to  be  shame- 
fully penurious  in  their  gifts  to  good  causes,  and  laid 
such  stress  upon  plainness  that  he  encouraged  covet- 
ousness.  The  gold  on  a  schoolgirl's  person  seemed 
more  offensive  to  him  than  the  gold  hid  in  her  fa- 
ther's coffers,  if  that  father  was  a  plain  man  of 
steady  waj'S.  He  could  not  recognize  the  fact  that 
the  Methodists  were  growing  rich.  They  were  poor 
when  he  first  knew  them,  and  he  wanted  them  to  stay 
so.  He  cared  comparatively  little  for  advanced  ed- 
ucation among  ministers.  He  wanted  piety,  zeal, 
and  heroism  in  his  preachers,  and  then  he  was  con- 
tent if  they  knew  how^  to  use  the  English  tongue.  He 
was  more  concerned  about  the  circuit  in  the  wilder- 
ness than  the  cathedral  in  the  city.  He  was  not  al- 
w^ays  tolerant.  What  he  said  as  true  he  thought  was 
True,  and  he  had  no  disposition  to  reopen  the  ques- 
tion. When  men  differed  with  him  they  were  wrong, 
and  that  was  the  end  of  it. 

His  idea  of  the  piety  of  other  preachers  but  the 
Methodists  was  not  high.  Especially  did  he  dispar- 
age the  New  Englanders.  That  he  was  prepared  to 
do  them  justice  one  will  not  be  likely  to  admit  who 
takes  info  consideration  his  very  rapid  transit 
through  the  states,  and  the  little  intercourse  he  had 
with  Calvinists. 

The  story  of  his  life  is  the  story  of  heroic  self-sac- 
rifice, and  the  magnificent  campaigns  which  he 
planned  and  which  he  so  successfully  carried  out  are 
without  a  parallel  in  the  history  of  the  world. 

He  was  imperious,  a  very  autocrat  in  the  domain 
in  which  he  had  been  made  dictator,  but  he  was  a  die- 


Francis  As  bub  y,  309 

tator  for  the  good  of  others  aloue.  He  required  in- 
stant obedience  to  his  commands,  even  when  he  or- 
dered difficult  and  sometimes  apparently  impossible 
things  to  be  done,  but  he  was  as  willing  to  share  the 
danger  as  he  was  to  ask  another  to  face  it. 

That  he  was  sometimes  petulant,  and  sometimes 
said  things  which  were  unduly  severe,  was  doubtless 
true.  He  did  not  admire  Rankin,  nor  Jesse  Lee,  nor 
O'Kelly,  nor  Glendening,  nor  sundry  others  who  op- 
posed him;  they  thought  he  was  overbearing,  and  he 
thought  they  were  untrustworthy,  and  to  his  inti- 
mate friends  he  spoke  his  mind  freely  of  these  men, 
and  in  no  mild  terms.  We  of  this  day  clearly  see 
that  he  misread  some  of  them.  Once  he  turned  his 
back  on  Jesse  Lee,  when  he  was  speaking,  and  Lee 
said  "one  of  his  brethren  had  said  no  man  of  com- 
mon sense  would  speak  as  he  did,  and  he  supposed  he 
was  a  man  of  uncommon  sense."  "Yes,"  said  As- 
bury,  "yes,  yes,  brother  Lee,  you  are  a  man  of  un- 
common sense."  "Then,"  said  Lee,  "I  beg  that  un- 
common attention  be  paid  to  what  I  am  about  to 
say." 

Once  Asbury  said  petulantly  that  he  would  not 
give  one  single  preacher  for  three  married  ones.  "I 
ask  a  location,  sir,"  said  one;  "And  so  do  I,"  said  an- 
other; "And  so  do  I,"  said  another  of  the  married 
men.  "Why,  brethren,  what  do  you  mean?"  said 
tke  alarmed  bishop.  "Why,  sir,  you  said  you  had 
rather  have  one  single  preacher  than  three  of  us." 
"Did  I  say  that?"  "Yes,  sir,  you  did."  "Then  I'll 
take  it  back ;  I'll  take  it  back." 

He  did  not  like  opposition,  nor  any  movement  that 
lessened  his  episcopal  power,  and  when  the  men  of 


310  Francis  Asbuey, 

the  presbyterial  party,  as  lie  called  it,  persisted  iu 
their  eHort  to  make  the  presiding  eldership  electoral, 
he  avowed  his  determination  to  use  his  position  to 
prevent  it,  as  far  as  possible,  saying  to  T.  L.  Douglas 
in  a  letter  quoted  by  Bennett  (Memorials,  p.  584} : ''  In 
former  times  I  have  been  impartial,  indifferent,  and 
have  appointed  good  men,  that  I  knew  were  for  a 
presbyterial  party;  but  since  they  have  made  such 
an  unwarrantable  attack  upon  the  constitution,  in 
the  very  first  General  Conference  after  its  adoption, 
I  will  only  trust  such  men  as  far  as  I  can  see  them, 
and  let  such  men  know  that  I  know  their  principles 
and  disapprove  them." 

He  was  sternly  opposed  to  innovations,  and  as  he 
grew  older  was  always  on  the  alert  lest  there  should 
be  any  made.  Young  Nathan  Bangs  had  been  sent 
to  New  York  as  one  of  the  preachers.  He  found  a 
state  of  things  which  he  thought  ought  to  be  correct- 
ed. There  was  a  wild  excitement  in  the  meetings, 
which  was  very  offensive  to  the  young  preacher,  and 
at  considerable  cost  to  himself  he  sternly  suppressed 
these  excesses.  It  was  reported  to  Asbury  that  he 
was  making  a  concession  to  the  demands  of  the  fas- 
tidious, and  the  old  bishop  mildly  alluded  to  it  in  a 
letter  to  the  young  pastor.  Bangs  asked  for  an  ex- 
planation, but  showed  that  he  was  hurt.  The  dear 
old  man  replied,  saying  among  other  things:  "I  am 
sorry  I  am  not  more  prudent,  but  when  I  am  called 
upon  so  often  to  speak  and  w^rite  I  am  not  sufficiently 
on  my  guard.  T  hope  you  will  bear  with  me.  You 
will  pardon  me,  and  pray  that  I  may  sav,  do,  preach, 
and  write  better." 

He  had  no  children  of  his  own,  and  he  looked  on 


Francis  As  bury,  311 

the  young  preachers  as  his  family.  He  wa  i  as  gen- 
tle and  tender  toY/ard  them  as  a  grandfather  could 
have  been  toward  the  members  of  a  son's  household. 
He  was  in  the  habit  of  tenderly  embracing  them,  and 
kissed  them  affectionately  on  the  cheek.  He  called 
them  by  the  most  endearing  names — but  he  allowed 
none  to  oppose  him.  He  w^as  sure  he  was  right,  and 
if  any  opposed  him  they  were  to  be  resisted  and 
sternly  stood  against.  He  made  no  compromises,  no 
concessions,  and  was  not  always  just  in  his  censures. 

While  these  features  of  his  character  must  be  rec- 
ognized, one  has  not  to  search  far  before iie  finds  that 
there  was  no  malevolence  in  the  good  man's  heart. 
He  had  never  come  in  contact  with  a  strong  man 
without  a  contest,  but  it  was  the  brave  tilt  of  a  stain- 
less knight,  and  always  in  defense  of  what  he  be- 
lieved to  be  the  right.  He  was  as  devoid  of  selfish- 
ness as  he  was  of  fear,  and  as  ready  to  forgive  as  he 
was  quick  to  strike;  and  while  his  course  was  un- 
swerving in  the  prosecution  of  duty,  personal  rancor 
had  no  place  in  his  heart.  Rankin,Wesley,  Coke, Lee, 
O'Kelly,  had  all  found  him  a  sturdy  antagonist,  but 
he  always  contended  for  a  principle.  He  called  no 
man  rabbi,  and  he  asked  from  others  nothing  more 
than  he  gave. 

IN"©  man  ever  did  so  much  for  Methodism  in  Ameri- 
ca as  Francis  Asbury,  and  no  man  ever  had  an  eye 
more  single  to  God's  glory  in  the  work  he  did,  and 
no  man  ever  labored  more  unselfishly  for  those 
among  whom  his  lot  was  cast. 

THE  END. 


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